The Rescuer
by Cherry Mars
Summary: A series of vignettes taken from the life of The Rescuer, the only person absent from the "Dream Team," and how she completes the puzzle. Eames/OC, Arthur/Ariadne
1. We

Note: Please read this! This is a series of vignettes that have a chronological order, numbered 1 through 17. Just to give you a brief timeline, it ranges from before Dom incepted Mal to eight years after the Fischer job. I've mixed the vignettes up to tell the story. By the end, you should get what happened. It's not meant to be read in chapters, really. Read and review! This is my first Inception fiction. There will be a long ending note.

P.S. The little "..." mean a time lapse. Something's wrong with the hyphens.

* * *

**The Rescuer** (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

A series of vignettes taken from the life of The Rescuer, the only person absent from the "Dream Team," and how she completes the puzzle. Eames/OC, Arthur/Ariadne.

**Disclaimer: **I am not Christopher Nolan. But I would love to hug his mind. And I own none of the songs from here.

* * *

16 (Sixteen; Seize; Dieciséis)

The children giggled, spinning around in circles with Ariadne. Veda watched them with a smile on her face, leaning on the banister of the back porch.

"So, you look great," said Arthur. She glanced at him and then back to her children.

"So do you, Mr. Suit. Marriage works with you. I still can't believe you guys eloped. That's just so weird."

"You always say that." Arthur rolled his eyes- they'd married five years ago on a whim, and Veda would not shut up about it.

"But it's so _like you_- I mean, I wouldn't've thought you two wouldn't tell us, but- Hm. Well, you changed a bit after you got married, and certainly after the Fischer job and Dom's rescue."

"Mm, yeah. Can you believe eight years have passed since then?"

"Wild, isn't it?"

"I just- it seems like yesterday that we were in that helicopter, and I was telling Saito Inception wasn't possible." He shook his head in awe.

"How about it's been seventeen years since we were first introduced to dream sharing. And our infamous bungling of dreams."

"If I remember correctly," smiled Arthur, "that first time was entirely your fault. What'd you do again? Accidentally take us to space?"

"Rings of Saturn." Veda began to laugh. "I just wanted to know what would happen! I was dumb, okay? At least we could breathe."

"Cobb was so confused- his face was like 'damn, did she just outdo me?'"

"I didn't mean it! And what about you? You kept bringing in projections!"

"Oh ha ha. I was _learning_."

"Your projections were hilarious. They were all like James Bond! Your subconscious is a badass, Arthur." Their laughter died down, and Veda pat him on the shoulder, turning back to look at her twins playing with their godmother. She fleetingly thought of the old days, back when Cobb was around. Before he told them he wanted nothing more to do with them, for the sake of James and Phillipa.

"How are you, Veda?"

"Oh, I'm fine. The children are wonderful." She waved to them. "Everyone's fine."

"What about money?"

"Arthur."

"I'm being serious, Veda."

"You don't have to look after me, Arthur. You always ask, every time you visit, if I'm okay with money. I am."

"I know you're not working as much, so-" Veda gave it a dismissive wave.

"There are other good Rescuers now, it's true, but everyone who needs serious rescuing knows I'm still the best. And if you need serious rescuing, you'll come visit me and pay a lot. You know that, Arthur. Me not doing as many jobs is good for me. I can sleep for five hours non-stop without drugs now. And the twitches are gone."

"Good."

"Mhm."

"I don't know how you can stand it." Arthur shook his head, face darkening. Veda knew what he meant.

"It's complicated, Arthur."

"You always say that. I don't get how Eames isn't here. He's their dad- he should be here, even if he won't marry you."

"He visits," Veda said hesitantly.

"Yeah, well, visiting isn't enough. You're basically on your own, raising them. They're six years old. Sending money and presents and visiting whenever he feels like isn't raising them."

"Tell him that, then. He's coming tomorrow. You and Ariadne should come too. I'm having an end of summer party for the children. Neighbors and their children and people from their class will be there. I'm the secretary of the PTA, so I had to host something." She frowned. "Maybe those stupid neighbors will shut up."

"What d'you mean?"

Veda sighed. "The neighbors think I'm a bad mother or something because they don't see a father. And the parents tell their kids to stay away from Cayenne and Grayson, so they get teased. They don't know why, and they try to explain that their dad is working, but the kids still tease them. Just this Monday, one of the boys pushed Cayenne to the ground, skinning her knee. And Grayson flipped out and fought the kid. He broke his arm."

"What?"

"Yeah, Grayson hates people hurting Cayenne. The kid, his parents live like three five minutes away, and they told the principal some crap about how Grayson is violent and all, and I had to go down to the school and raise hell yesterday. Grayson was on the verge of getting expelled. It was so dumb. And now I have to throw this stupid party, and the parents of that kid and that kid will be here tomorrow."

"Well, our job's done, me and Ariadne. So we could come to the party tomorrow."

"Party?" Ariadne stepped onto the porch.

"Yeah, I'm hosting a PTA party tomorrow. You and Arthur should spend the night here!" Veda clapped. "Then you could be at the party."

"Veda, we don't want to impose-"

"Whatever, I'm a good hostess, Arthur! And we've got plenty of room." Veda called out to the children. "Should Arthur and Ariadne spend the night, _mes rêves_?"

"YES!" Both of the twins squealed and ran from the swingset to the porch.

"OH PLEASE STAY."

"Uncle Arthur, I want you to see my crazy stairs painting I made in art."

"Auntie Ari, I got a new dollhouse that you haven't seen yet. It's a padoga."

"Pagoda?" Ariadne grinned.

"Yes, pagoda."

"I guess we're staying then," Arthur sighed, unable to deny the childish charms of young Grayson and Cayenne Brighton-Eames.

"YAAAAY!" The children reached out and hugged their godparents. To be honest, anyone from the Fischer job was a godparent of the twins, not just Ariadne and Arthur. Saito had shown up several years ago when they were both deathly sick, paying for all of the hospital bills. Yusuf had bought them each a cat- pixie bobs, oddly enough, which Veda thought Yusuf had molecularly changed. Dom, though he wasn't in the same state, sent presents to the twins. Unlike James and Phillipa, everyone could see that these twins would become dreamers- dreamers who would undoubtedly become the best. It was something that everyone just knew.

* * *

4 (Four; Quatre; Quatro)

They waited in relative silence. "Her flight's late," said Arthur, looking up from his wrist watch. Ariadne shrugged, taking her miniature sixty-thirty triangle and lining it up with her ruler. With every second that Cobb stayed dreaming, he was closer to staying in a permanent coma.

"It's a plane, darling, not like it's the end of the world." Eames was one to talk- he'd actually glanced several times at the wall clock since they'd been waiting for their guest. But now that the initial nervousness had worn off, Eames had resigned to people-watching. Airports were hilarious. Everyone wanted to go somewhere, and therefore it was the second most diverse place other than the mall's food court. The woman across from Eames shifted uncomfortably in her seat and kept fluffing up her limp blonde hair; Eames smirked, wondering if it was he or Arthur that was making the woman feel self-conscious. To his right, a toddler teetered around with a pacifier in his mouth, wandering away from his mother. Eames smiled at him, and the toddler grinned back, pacifier falling from his mouth; luckily, it was fixed on a ribbon pinned to his chest. To his left, businessmen in overly-starched suits checked their Blackberries, furrowing their brows. They annoyed Eames a bit, acting just like Arthur.

He turned to look at Arthur who was looking at Ariadne drawing. Arthur's eyes were soft as he watched her deftly flip over the three metal pieces in her hands, positioning them on the page, occasionally with a pencil and maybe mixing in an eraser. Arthur was certainly smitten, to say the least. Eames' eyebrows raised in amusement. Arthur was already protective of Ariadne. Because of that, it pissed Arthur off to no end when Eames needlessly and innocently flirted with her. Eames did it on purpose though, for a laugh. He did love to get a rise out of that stick-in-the-mud. He needed to smile more. Loosen up a bit. Well, maybe Ariadne would help with that.

His gaze moved down to Ariadne who flipped over her small T-square. She was certainly very talented, mind wide-open with imagination. Dreamscape and the building of it suited her, seemed very organic. Seeing people in their natural element gave them a certain sensual allure, thought Eames, and the watcher always knew the exact element that gave them that beauty. So yes, he liked her a lot and seeing Ariadne in her natural setting did move Eames, but Arthur had nothing to worry about. She was very beautiful, very sweet, intelligent, humorous, but she wasn't Eames' proper type.

To be honest, Eames had many types, and no doubt he had bed them all- men and women. But there was only one woman who was his type, his exact type. And the nervousness seeped into him again. He hadn't seen the Rescuer in months.

"His vitals haven't changed," Arthur said suddenly, thumbing through his phone, presumably reading a text message.

"Good." Eames reminded himself that the Rescuer was not coming on vacation. She was coming to bring Cobb back to reality. He never woke up- Saito somehow did, but Dominick Cobb did not. Eames wondered what he was dreaming of, inside his head. Ariadne was positively sure Mal had vacated his mind.

"She's here." Arthur quickly got to his feet. Ariadne pulled herself from her work, packing things back into her satchel.

"I finally get to meet her," said Ariadne.

"You'll like her," Arthur noted. "She's different." Eames raised his eyebrow at Arthur, mouth open and about to speak. He refrained, wanting to say 'like you?' but didn't want to insult the Rescuer.

Eames noticed her step into the lobby first. Veda stood out just a tad, only because she wore sunglasses inside. She wore that same leather racing jacket he remembered, the one with the stripes. Arthur saw her next and stepped forward.

"Veda? Over here." Veda pulled up her sunglasses, setting them on her head. Her brown eyes were still oddly large for her face, and the bags under them were still present; she hadn't gotten any sleep lately, Eames noted. Her skin was still like coffee and creamer, and still tinged with a deathly gray. His eyes moved to her lips, and she smiled that wide, unexpected smile.

"Hey, Arthur!" She dismissed his outstretched hand and pulled him in for a half-hug. Arthur blinked rapidly, taken aback, and his body stiffened. Veda was too touchy with people she knew. Probably because she didn't really know very many people.

"Er, hi." They pulled away from each other. "You remember Eames, and this is Ariadne, Cobb's new Architect. Ariadne, Veda." Veda's eyes lingered over Eames, as if she was deciding whether or not to hug him properly. He knew she wouldn't. She didn't. But she did reach for Ariadne, who did hug her, and less awkwardly than Arthur.

"Hi, nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Any bags?" The Point Man didn't see any but knew she had one.

"Just the one." Arthur nodded, leading the way to baggage claim. Ariadne followed close behind him, preferring to wait to talk when they got to the car.

"Hi." Veda hung back to issue her greeting to Eames.

"Hello, love." She didn't touch him then, and just as well. The moment she touched him, or vice versa, the switch would be flipped; this was business, not pleasure. She shifted her oversized bag on her shoulder. Eames had never seen this one before- it was fuchsia patent leather. Kitschy, but it went with her. She had a faint smile played out on her lips, like she was on the verge of laughing. She did.

"Oh that is too cute," she whispered, leaning towards him. He caught a whiff of her hair, that nameless sweet smell that he only smelled around her. "Do they date or something? Because they should." Ariadne and Arthur.

"They've been out for drinks a few times."

"Hm." She smiled fondly. She was a sucker for romance.

"How're you?" he asked.

"You don't look well. How many layers did you go?"

"Three," Eames sighed. She never answered the question.

"Ah, that's not so bad. Sedatives?"

"Mhm."

"Ooh." She cringed. "Yusuf, right?"

"Who else?"

"True." Veda shrugged, pulling her sunglasses back over her face and fell silent. Eames saw her eyes twitch violently before she did. He said nothing.

...

"I did not know he did not follow me back," finished Saito. Boxes of takeout littered the coffee table, remnants of the meal they'd finished hours ago. They were recounting, step by step, the routes they'd taken during the Inception. Veda even had Ariadne draw it out, and Yusuf broke down the compounds he used extensively. It was late, and everyone was tired, but this was important.

"And the Inception took," sighed Veda, shaking her head. "It took." Veda was starting to think that this just might be the most complicated Rescue she'd ever done. He was lost, and he also thought it was real, by the sound of it. She wondered if the Mal in his head was truly gone.

"It did," Saito confirmed. "My sources tell me that the first moves to deconstruct Fischer's company have been taken."

"This is just like Mal." Veda slipped on her shades, feeling the tremors in her eyes coming back. She needed to sleep. "Mal was so stuck in her world. I tried to persuade her over and over that we were not dreaming." That was the first time Veda failed. Failed at Rescuing.

"Sorry for asking, but why do you have to persuade them specifically? Couldn't you just kill him in the dream and it'd work?"

"No. We don't know how many layers he's under, or even if he's in limbo. But what's worse is that if he's just killed and he thinks he's alive, I could really kill him. He could lose his mind." Veda kept sighing. This all just seemed so hopeless. They had to want to be rescued, not just need it. She picked up a legal pad and began writing. "I'll see him in the morning."

"Why not now?"

"I need to pretend I'm- um-" Veda's hand quivered, and she put down the pen. She really needed sleep. "I need to look at all of this from his point of view, figure out how to explain to him that what he's dreaming is faulty. I don't want to have myself biased by his surface. Somehow he thinks that the reality he shared with all of you is the reality he's still in. I need to study that reality."

"Anything you need, you can have." Saito stood, his guilt radiating off of him. Out of everyone, he bore the most guilt; Cobb had been trying to save him. "I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, I'd better turn in too."

"Me three." Ariadne stretched her arms above her head. "Are you gonna need us for anything?"

"Dunno. Depends on how deep he is. But even so, his mind is our enemy right now. Which means that our target is Dom. We're saving him from himself." Veda grimaced; the words haunted the room like a poltergeist, playing with each one of them in a strangely morbid way. But Veda moved her eyes to Eames; his gaze was fixed on the bamboo floor. Her chest grew tight- maybe it was the fact that she'd been thinking of her good friend Mal, but Veda knew that this was just the hold Eames had on her. She wished she didn't think of him like this, but she did. It was like gravity- the closer she was, the stronger the pull. She watched him rise from his chair, wave up two fingers in a goodbye, and then- she looked down just in time. Veda did not want to meet his eyes. She waited until the front door closed before getting up herself.

"Yusuf?" She addressed the Chemist once everyone else had vacated the area. He was also staying in the suite to monitor Dom's health. "Do you have anything that could put me to sleep?"

"Take off the glasses." Yusuf could possibly be the only one who knew exactly what she was going through and how to help her properly. She did as she was told, revealing the tremors and bags. "Hell." He took her hand, feeling for her pulse. Her fingers moved involuntarily.

"I know, I know…"

"Why can't you sleep again?" She shrugged, watching him rummage through his bag. Nightmares. Getting caught in her mind. She had nothing to anchor her to reality, to make her want her reality. She was so afraid of falling asleep. Of dreaming her own dreams. "D'you microsleep?"

"Yeah."

"How many times a day?"

"I've lost count."

"That's not good."

"Yusuf, are you a doctor-therapist or a Chemist?" Yusuf rolled his eyes at her, taking out a little plastic bag with two tiny pearly pills inside.

"This'll put you right into a deep sleep within five minutes of taking it. Don't set your alarm- there'll be hell to pay if you do. A full glass of water to wash it down. You'll dream intermittently, but only for five minutes tops in dreamscape. I doubt you'll be able to manipulate it. It gives five hours."

"Only?"

"With someone with such advanced sleep deprivation as you, yeah. A normal person would be out like a light for ten or twelve." She sighed.

"Thanks, Yusuf."

"You're welcome. G'night."

"Night." She shluffed off down the hall, terribly afraid of taking the pills.

* * *

3 (Three; Trois; Tres)

"She won't listen," Veda mumbled to Dom. They were on the Cobbs' front porch. She rubbed her eyes, trying desperately not to break into tears.

"Fuck," whispered Dom. "What do you think's gonna happen if this goes on?" Veda's eyes flickered to the front door, where Mal was cooking inside.

"Mal's gonna die, Dom- I've never seen someone so sure-" Veda caught her breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What did you do." She wasn't asking a question- it was more of a command, a subtle outing of the information she wanted.

"V, I-"

"No." She shook her head and leaned forward, the only thing separating them was the six inches of tension radiating from their bodies. "You did. Something. Mal won't listen. To _me._ Every dreamer on this earth knows that when they see me, there's something wrong. She's awake, and you called me. You didn't call a psychiatrist, Dom. You didn't call Miles or Arthur. You called _me_."

"You're her best friend-"

"No. Dom, I am _the_ _Rescuer_. You're an Architect. Mal's an Architect. I'm not. I am the person that dreamers who fucked up call when they need help. Now what did you fuck up?" A painful lump rose in Cobb's throat; he swallowed it back.

"We spent like fifty years in limbo," he hastily said, "and it was beautiful. But she didn't want to come out."

"Why- why would you let her go that far under with you?" Veda shook her head. "You know what Mal's like." Dissatisfied, disenchanted with her world. The real world. That was what made her such a good Architect. Mal deemed the world unfit of true creativity, unable to grant her zero-limits on what her mind could accomplish.

"We were just supposed to run trials-"

"She forgot it was a dream, didn't she?" Dom nodded; Veda bit her lip, the tears messing up her mascara.

"She didn't want the truth. She locked her totem away in a safe. I opened it and spun it."

"That's _inception_, Dom. There is a reason why we don't attempt it. Eames tried it once, and it didn't take. Do you know why it didn't take?" Veda didn't wait for his answer. "It wasn't that it wasn't deep enough. It wasn't the idea- Hell, the idea was simple. It was that the idea we chose to incept wasn't organic to the person. Arthur always says that true inspiration is impossible to fake. And that's true. Unless deep, deep down that idea is a logical sequence of events for the Mark. Oh, Dom, you _know _her. Probably better than I do. How could you not know that that top would still be spinning in her head right now?"

"But you can stop it, right?" Dom breathed.

"No." Veda rubbed the whistle on the chain around her neck. "That's the point of inception. That idea that you put in her head, that her world wasn't real- it defines her now. She's going to be obsessed with it. That single idea will dominate her brain, take over and fester. Until she lives it through." Cobb's heart leapt from his chest, seemingly to the sun that quickly dipped below the horizon.

"We- I- But-?"

"I can't save her. She thinks I'm rescuing her from a dream."

"I can't accept that, Veda." Dom shook his head. "I won't."

"I know." Veda sighed, folding her arms. "You can try. You can try Miles, psychologists, therapy, whatever you want. But I'll tell you right now that it won't work. The best thing you can do for her right now is love her, put off whatever she's going to do." Dom put a weary hand to his forehead, his fingers raking through his hair.

"Dear God, what have I done?" His blue eyes glistened with salty, hot water; waves of shame and guilt and grief took him under like a rip current. Veda, taking pity on him, wrapped warm arms around his body, and Dom began to cry.

...

After Mal's funeral ended, there was an unexpected downpour. James and Phillipa had already returned home with their grandparents, and Cobb was long gone, probably in Peru or Singapore. Who knew.

And Veda stood at her best friend's grave, clothes growing heavy with rain. Her whistle's sharp sound got lost in the wind. An umbrella shielded Veda. She glanced up at its holder- Arthur.

"You should get out of the rain- you'll catch a draft, Veda."

"I tried, you know, I really really tried to bring her back." She angrily slapped the tears on her face, her other hand balling up into a fist.

"She was sick, V." Arthur didn't know what Dom had done.

"I promised her that I'd find her if she ever got lost in her head. I failed her." A usually introverted, unaffectionate Arthur put an arm around Veda's shoulders. "She was so scared of getting lost."

"We all are. C'mon, let's get you back to the hotel." He guided her back to the car, and they sped down the road, headed away from the many headstones.

"You're great," Veda suddenly said. "I'm an only child- I've never had a brother before. I've always wanted a brother, Arthur." He gave a dry chuckle; Veda smiled.

"I'm an only child too. I guess having a sister isn't so bad." Veda wouldn't say it (she'd only embarrass him), but she trusted Arthur with her life. It was an easy thing to do. She currently could only count on four- well, now three now that Mal was dead- people in this capacity. Arthur, Cobb, and Eames. She liked trusting people, being with them.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Mhm." Arthur slowed for a red light.

"I haven't slept for more than two hours straight since Dom called me to see Mal. That was four months ago."

Silence. An inhale of breath from Arthur. "Why?"

"I just can't. I'm scared to sleep. I stay up thinking things like 'who would rescue me if I were to get lost in my own head.'"

"We wouldn't let that happen." By "we," Veda knew Arthur meant himself and Cobb. But what he said next surprised her. "Eames most definitely wouldn't."

"I thought you hated Eames." A half-smile played upon his face.

"He's annoying as shit, but he cares about you," he fleetingly glanced at Veda. "So he's alright with me."

"Definitely an older brother," she said fondly. They pulled into the parking garage of the hotel.

"Well, your older brother's going to treat you to dinner after you get out of those wet clothes."

"A sweet older brother." Veda's doe eyes widened with sincerity. She was embarrassing him now. His ears reddened, and he rolled his eyes as they both got out of the sedan. He waited for her to round the car before walking up the hotel steps. "Thank you, though."

"For dinner?"

"Ha, yes, but no. I meant thanks for not letting that happen. You don't know what it's like, sometimes, filtering the nonsense in people's heads. No structure at all." Arthur unknowingly wrinkled his nose at the idea. He shrugged.

"You're welcome." He didn't know how to say that really it was her he should thank, for saving him that one time.

It was shortly after his second job; the Mark, an army general, had a battlefield designed for him. The dream screwed with Arthur's mind so horribly that he couldn't distinguish it from the reality he had witnessed when he was serving his time in the military. The dreamscape was extensive- their Architect had gone overboard, and the maze was too complicated for Arthur to navigate properly. She'd found him, fetal position, in a rank trench filled with the decaying bodies of dead projections, but Veda was smiling, hand outstretched. Her anomalistic presence saved Arthur from his head; if Arthur had stayed, he surely would've gone insane. So he had to, at the very least, make sure she was alright. It would be downright wrong if she succumbed to those sorts of things.

It was then Arthur decided, while Veda was changing her clothes, he never ever wanted to see the inside of her head.

* * *

9 (Nine; Neuf; Nueve)

Really, there was nothing to say. To tell the truth, the seven of them in the room did not know each other as well as they could have, so they really couldn't say much. Yet right then, with Cobb finally awake, a sense of friendship and camaraderie pervaded the room, and everyone felt right. They were all afraid of talking, saying anything to disturb this moment of accomplishment. Cobb could finally go home to see James and Phillipa. Saito could see his precious engineering endeavors thrive for another decade or two, and Yusuf, with his and Cobb's shares of money, could finally get the compounds he needed for mass drug trials. Ariadne would no doubt quit school and follow Arthur into the black market that was extraction. And Arthur, under his steely exterior, would gladly welcome her and love her. Eames would go on with life as usual, crossing paths with everyone, and possibly staying to work with Arthur and Ariadne a bit more. And Veda, well, she'd just continue on loving them as her family, pulling Ariadne into her circle.

They sat for five minutes in silence before Yusuf spoke.

"Is Veda asleep?" He asked incredulously. They all turned to her; Veda's head was nestled gently on Eames' shoulder, her arm crooked around his.

"Hm, I guess she is," Eames said.

"Never seen her actually sleep before," breathed Cobb.

"She worked overtime trying to get you back."

"Hm, she's a damn good Rescuer, isn't she?" Cobb would always be indebted to her for that. Well, all of them really.

"Mhm."

...

"You sure you don't want to continue here? Could use another person," offered Arthur. As much as he would not admit it, it was plain he liked having Veda around. She was an expert at her work. The best.

"I can't- I've already got three jobs lined up," said Veda, giving Arthur a sad smile. Cobb had already arrived at his home, Saito had taken off, and of course, Yusuf had been the first one to leave. "But call me any time. You guys are my favorite team."

"Alright then."

"You can call us too, you know." Ariadne smiled, and Veda returned with a hug.

"I will, Ari." She hugged Arthur. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Suit."

"Ha, you too. Seriously." An amused Veda nodded, putting her sunglasses over her eyes.

"I've got to go." She stared at all of Eames, except his eyes- she was too angry to look. Her heart tugged, practically screaming at her to stay. She wanted to stay. But she couldn't, not like this. She felt so down when she had to leave- he'd fallen short of her expectations, and he knew that. But that didn't- wouldn't- change how she felt about Eames at the end of the day.

Eames wanted to capture her gaze with his, to force her to see the pain in his eyes. The pain from her leaving all the time. He'd beat himself up later about allowing her to leave again. But he knew, deep inside, he couldn't provide what she needed from him anyway. But that didn't change how he felt about her at the end of the day either, so he couldn't touch her properly. He held out his hand for her to shake instead.

She took it.

"See you, Eames."

"Bye, love." Veda half-saluted them all and strode off to board her plane. Eames sighed, tearing his eyes away from the gate and motioning that he was going to the car.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the two of them, wondering what the hell was their problem.

"I don't think we'll ever get it," voiced Ariadne. She glanced up at Arthur and shrugged. "They both like each other- a lot it seems, and they just won't stay together."

"It's Eames, that's what it is. Stupid."

"I don't think it's just his fault. But like I said, I don't think we get it. People are complicated." Ariadne sighed. "I like V a lot. We should call her more often."

"We?" A smile inched over Arthur's lips. "You're not going back to Paris?"

"Well there's no point in getting my degree now. Seriously, who wants to build real stuff- not now, not knowing what's out there."

"Pure creation," nodded Arthur. It enthralled and caught everyone in its snare.


	2. Belong

**The Rescuer** (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

* * *

7 (Seven; Sept; Siete)

"Oh, wow. She looks really pretty."

"Who?" Arthur signaled that he wanted a hit. They were playing blackjack in the casino of the hotel where Cobb was sleeping.

"Veda." Eames' head snapped up to view the stairs. Arthur looked over as well. A certain amount of jealousy crept into Ariadne as Veda walked down the stairs. The Rescuer was not particularly drop-dead gorgeous, and she was not homely. But somehow, in a quietly sensual way, Veda commanded the room. Ariadne had not been aware of this air around the Rescuer, but now she had to notice. Both men and women looked her up and down, and some of the drunken ones tried to approach her, but she was too fluid for them.

"Hey." Arthur nudged her, motioning toward Eames with his chin. Ariadne turned her attention toward him. He'd pushed away the other three women fawning over him. His eyes danced in the sultry light of the casino, and a faint smile pulled at his mouth. His alcohol of choice reached his lips, he drained it, and then the glass found its way back to the table. He reached out, and Veda's hand found his.

What happened next confused and confirmed several things for Ariadne. Eames' arm wrapped around her waist, and Veda sat down in his lap. She had a giant smile on, whispering something into his ear. Eames laughed; their lips met. They pulled away, and Veda saw Ariadne and Arthur.

"Hi," she mouthed, waving. Arthur half-saluted; Ariadne waved.

"Oh, is this the wife, Mr. Eames?" The dealer asked mischievously. The Architect knew Eames' ploy to coax the croupier into feeling secure had worked; he remembered his name and was asking about his life. A rather amused, relaxed smirk fell upon Eames' face. The scowling women around Eames waited for either the Forger or the Rescuer to answer.

"I am," replied Veda. Ariadne looked to Arthur questioningly. Arthur shook his head no. The women disbursed.

"Lucky man."

"I am." Eames waved his hand horizontally over his cards and signaled the waitress for another drink. She took away his empty glass. Ariadne studied both Eames and Veda, realizing that they did indeed make a good match. They seemed to exude the same vibe as the couples in magazines, gambling in dodgy places and having the time of their lives while wearing chic fashion and sipping fine wines.

"Mr. Eames wins again." The dealer bowed, taking back the cards. Veda clapped; Eames gave Arthur a smirk.

"Right, right," grumbled Arthur, taking a draught of his scotch. "Another game."

"Darling, you're so hardheaded. Don't you know when to quit? Love, I've beaten him three times now." Veda's eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, after I beat you four!"

"Your fluke wins, Arthur, are inconsistent."

"Guys, the dealer won six times."

"Cheater," coughed Arthur.

"Me, cheating? Darling, you're probably counting."

"What? You are mistaken, Mr. Eames."

"Again, then," Eames announced, grinning for the dealer.

...

Eames was always awake at the same time every morning. Right when the sun touched his face, his eyes would flutter open. This morning, Veda's head was heavy on his chest; she was asleep. Eames was vaguely surprised. He hadn't expected her to still be asleep when he awoke- she usually was awake, regardless if she'd fallen asleep or not. He sighed, preferring not to move. Veda flexed her arm and fingers, clutching part of the blankets. She murmured something indistinct. Eames' raised his eyebrows, but did nothing. Veda jolted awake, snapping up.

"Love?" Puzzled, Eames propped himself up.

"No, no no!" Veda frantically shuffled around, reaching for her discarded jeans on the floor; she lost her balance and fell on the hardwood, yet she still rummaged in her dress' pockets until she found her whistle. She put it into her mouth and blew as hard as she could. A frighteningly loud sound emitted from it, and Eames resisted the urge to put his fingers in his ears. Veda stopped, put the chain around her neck, and sniffled.

"Sorry. I had- I had a nightmare."

"You're just fine." The image of her naked body sitting haphazardly on the floor amidst their clothes from the night before should've been turning him on, but it wasn't. He knew exactly how she felt right now- scared into madness. When he'd felt similarly, Eames often would grab his casino chip and squeeze it into his palm until his knuckles grew white, then trace the grooves with this thumb until his heart stopped racing. Veda had the whistle in her mouth, sifting a thin stream of air into it, just enough for it to sing faintly. She rocked herself forward onto her knees, crawling back into the bed. She put her head on Eames' stomach, looking up at the ceiling.

"I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What was it about, love?"

"My parents. They died a while ago, but I just can't get the image out of my head."

"What happened to them?"

"They, ah, were mauled by bears." Eames straightened up. "Yeah, hm, bears. After my first year of university, I tracked them somewhere in northern Montana. They were doing something involving finding a rare type of bird. Everything was fine until one morning. It was so surreal. Blood was everywhere. I had my whistle then too. My dad gave me my whistle because I had nightmares actually. He said that in a dream, the whistle wouldn't sound like it did in real life. So I'd whistle in my dreams. And I just changed my dream when I realized it wasn't real. During the attack, I thought it might be a dream, so I whistled. It wasn't a dream. It was not a dream." Veda pursed her lips and looked at Eames. His fingers thumbed through her hair, and his eyes said everything she wanted to hear. She shrugged. "Oh well."

* * *

0 (Zero; Zéro; Cero)

It was strange that Veda went to school for architecture, especially since she'd never had a home that wasn't on wheels. Her parents were what she called "floaters," people who flowed to wherever life pushed them. Maybe working here or there, as a leather curer or a ranch hand; a seamstress or a fruit picker. Always outside, never inside. Veda never had friends; her world always changed, no time for strings. She found camaraderie in the solidarity of nature- she enveloped herself in it. People were just funny objects to watch, much like ants in an anthill. She understood them well, and they did interest her. It was just that she never had time to befriend them. Alaska, Canada, Mexico. The Mojave, The Appalachian Mountains, The Everglades. West Coast, East Coast, Bering Sea. By the time she wanted to go to college, she'd been everywhere in North America. Her mother paused their drifting ways long enough for Veda to earn her GED from a random high school in California. Wit and good fortune found Veda in Paris sometime after, studying for her degree in architecture.

Well, to be honest, it wasn't the least bit strange, Veda's choice of major. Buildings were the only sense of permanence in the world, something that she never had. She could influence so many things with use of space, and she was brilliant at it. Structure was something she never had, so she invented it. And that was the problem. She couldn't part with her sense of invention- teachers found it as a hindrance. Veda would put arches where there should've been A-beams, courtyards where there should've been dining rooms. And the word they used to describe it- deconstructivism- was so harsh. She wasn't taking the purpose out of the home- she was putting in the smoothness of nature. Of human nature, of the nature outside. There weren't many people who understood what she was doing; only the eclectic professors really did.

So when Veda found that Mal, that French graduate student she absolutely secretly adored, was looking for a roommate for a flat in the Latin Quarter, Veda called her immediately. After getting to know her, Mal thought her designs and models were brilliant and referred her to her father, even though Veda was only eighteen. Miles instantly saw in Veda the makings of a Rescuer- someone who could blend architecture to someone's true nature and pick it apart. So Veda tried it. And could never go back. Once you blend those things, the feeling of a structure constructed and torn down and renovated once more with the feeling of someone's subconscious under scrutiny, one can never go back. Real, concrete architecture feels too tangible, too real, and too ugly. Veda could always tell the difference between the real and the imagined. That's what made her so good. But there was a price to pay- she visited others' dreams constantly, making her only want those perfectly abstract dreams. Reality was her nightmare, and that seeped into her sleep. In her own dreams, Veda would feel that danger, that tempting, delicious, frightening danger that her Marks felt when they traipsed through their own minds.

So she couldn't sleep; she developed insomnia, but nothing too bad- maybe a twitch here or there when she was extremely tired. But it was nothing. Veda was afraid to sleep because she knew she wouldn't be like Cobb and eventually stop dreaming. She wanted those dreams, but she knew that she could never make anything up so beautiful as the people she knew in real life. Thus, Veda held onto them. She hugged the people she knew, loved them like brothers and sisters. She'd never tell them- they thought she was just overly affectionate, dismissive of personal space. Veda would never tell them that her totem was losing its effect and that they were her totems now. They anchored her.

She tried to rescue Mal, her best friend, that woman who had grown to be her sister. But when that romantic French beauty fell to her death that night, the tremors in her hands got worse. Her skin gained grayish undertones, and her eyelids wavered, wanting to shut. Her grip on reality was falling apart; jobs with Cobb and Arthur and Eames and Yusuf grew fewer and shorter; jobs for governments and dignitaries and CEOs grew more intricate and more time-consuming. And when she did work on a team, she rarely let them see her mind. It fluctuated like the weather, bent to any whim she could possibly think. Though she could distinctly feel the difference between reality and dream, Veda Brighton was breaking, and she knew it.

All because she refused to accept her reality as something she could possibly want. So she saved people because, truthfully, Veda didn't want them to be like her.

* * *

11 (Eleven; Onze; Once)

"So you put her under as therapy," mused Veda, trying to understand why in the world there was a little dreaming eight-year-old in the warehouse Arthur had rented in Milan. "And now she won't come out."

"Yes. We thought it would help," her father said. It was seven months since she'd rescued Cobb, two months since she'd seen them last, and Arthur had called her out of nowhere with a job and said he would not take no for an answer. She'd wondered why, but this Mark, a little girl named Eliana, explained everything. The little girl had seen something dark, and she wasn't talking. Her maternal grandfather and her father were here- her mother had died when she was little. But there was another odd thing about this job. Her grandfather was the head of a faction of the Mafia in Milan. Probably Calabrian, but no one was talking.

These people had everyone on edge- especially Eames. He'd worked for this particular Don on several other occasions, and he knew what they were capable of. But they paid extremely well, even when the job went wrong, only because they needed complete secrecy.

"Mr. Eames tells us your team is the best," the Don said. "Let us hope his recommendation is not unwarranted."

"Don Romano, your granddaughter will be safe with us," said Veda, her hands shaking, but not from fear. She clasped them together. She needed control. "However, I hope you understand that when someone is lost in their head, there is a high chance that they cannot be rescued. Especially small children."

"I know this. But if you cannot rescue her, at least I will know what troubles my dear Eliana." The Don was visibly distraught, and his son-in-law, Moretti, was also nervous. She could tell their rules were forbidding the father from talking, from negotiating this deal.

"I can guarantee that," said Veda. Eames shot her a warning look- children were difficult. Even Arthur fidgeted at her promise.

"Good. I like you, Miss Veda. Hopefully our flying you out here wasn't in vain." The Don stood, motioning to his bodyguards and his son-in-law. Veda, Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne also rose to their feet. The Don shook their hands. "We will leave her here overnight. The equipment is too precarious to take back with us and then return. We will be back here at nine-thirty sharp to start. I would like to be here."

"Of course," said Arthur. And with a nod, the Mafiosi left in their unmarked car.

"That was unnerving," announced Ariadne, eyebrows raised.

"Mhm. Eames, what do you know about the father?" Veda asked.

"Not much- I just met him today, but I don't like the bugger."

"He looked fine to me," countered Arthur.

"His countenance was wrong," Eames shrugged. Veda nodded.

"He's a grieving father." Ariadne mumbled. "How do you want him to act...?"

"We need a gameplan." Arthur looked pointedly at them all. "We can't fuck this up or we really can't come to Italy ever again. The Mafia, I ask you…"

"Such a bloody downer, Arthur…" Arthur gave Eames a deadpan look- this was the Englishman's fault anyway.

"Before that, I need food- I haven't had anything since breakfast. What time is it?"

"Six."

"I'm going over across the street."

"I'll go with you," said Eames.

"Want anything?" Ariadne looked at Veda and Arthur.

"I don't care what it is."

"Pizza?" Veda said hopefully.

"Alright, I got your pizza," chuckled Ariadne; she and Eames left out the door, talking about pasta. Veda gazed at the little girl dreaming on the chaise, shaking her head.

"I wish people would stop using PASIVs as therapy. It's not therapy unless the person knows they're going under." Veda turned from the girl and sipped some of her water. Her eyelids began trembling; she closed her eyes, knowing that her sunglasses were in her purse on the other side of the room.

"Yeah, well, people are always going to distort what its proper use is. It's inevitable." Yawning, Arthur stretched his arms, shaking off the weary feeling he had. He needed food.

"This job is gonna throw me for a head spin, I know it already. I can't work late tonight. Gotta rest and gather my head, possibly sleep for at least a little while." He threw her a meaningful look, that 'you'd-better-take-care-of-yourself' look. She rolled her eyes at him, draining her waterbottle, continuing on. "I don't really think Ariadne needs to be here for this one. Children can't have set dreams, and we can't be dreamers for Eliana anyway." He didn't answer. Veda blinked a few times, looking around. She sighed. "Alright, dear Mr. Suit, what is your issue?"

"What?"

"Your issue, what is it? You might as well just spit it out- I'll find out anyway." He huffed, leaning on the counter.

"It's-" his eyes were downcast. "It's Ariadne."

"Mhm." She leaned in, smiling a little. But she withdrew the happy factor once she realized this was really bugging him.

"At first I thought it'd be great to have someone around just as a friend, but I don't think I can be just that. In fact, I know I don't want to be just that. And then when I think about it, the more I don't want her around. I can't offer her anything, V, anything at all. Not anything she needs. And I don't want to subject her to this life we live. What is it anyway? Takeout, sleepless nights, fake I.D.s, cold hotel rooms, isolation. And on top of that, there're the constant dangers of the profession. If you can call this a profession. She quit school, and the last time I saw Miles, he just looked at me sternly, like it was my fault, and I feel like it is. I just- I want her to be happy and have all the things that a normal person is supposed to have. A real job, a real house, family, friends. Hell, home-cooked meals and a pet. And it pisses me right the hell off that I can't provide that for her. I don't even think she knows what she's getting into. There is nothing good about this. Look at-" his voice lowered- "look at Mal. Look at Cobb. Me, you. Eames even has identity issues that he'll never admit. And all for what? What is this world? Corporate leaders, petty rich people- the mafia? This world is utterly repulsive. I'm disgusted when I think of what I'm doing to her. There is nothing wrong with her yet. And I don't want to be apart of the thing that taints her." Arthur trailed off.

"You done?"

"Yeah." Arthur scratched his head, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, I'm done."

"First of all, Arthur- er, I'm just gonna be honest because I love you, but- Yes, Arthur, I love you." She folded her arms. "First of all, you don't know what she needs. Like, at all. Or even what she wants. Ariadne's not a perfect, untainted being. Everyone who does what we do is fractured from the get-go. We've all got holes in us. We've all got our reasons for entering into this world, and one of the reasons is that we're trying to feel more whole again. Maybe through extracting and searching through other people's minds we'll find out what it is that we're missing. And maybe we'll never find it. But I know there's a big, gaping hole in my heart- and you've got it too, as much as you don't want to say it- because I know that the world is just what you've alluded to. Pointless, stupid, petty, unmagical. And what we do- what we do is fill ourselves with the possibility that anything could happen, that childlike wonder that we lost somewhere. The world is _boring_, Arthur. It leaves you unfulfilled and cold. But in a dream-

"Remember the first line you drew from the PASIV? You closed your eyes, and when you opened them, the world was whatever you wanted it to be. Anything you could possibly imagine. You were thrilled, you were frightened. It was the sweetest drug with the highest of highs. But you couldn't leave it be. Because the hole in your heart wouldn't let you. And that's what's happening with Ariadne right now. You see her eyes as she's dragging her pen along her paper. I know you do. You're mad at yourself because you see that spark. And you know the danger and the madness that comes along with it. You know the pain. You know what it feels like to wake up after a dream and grab for the totem that you sleep with under your pillow; you're covered in cold sweat and fear. And to feel the relief that washes over you when you realize that you're in reality… It's a huge price to pay for what we get in return." Veda paused, close to tears.

"And when it's someone you love, you don't want that for them. Cobb will never tell James and Phillipa. I'm surprised he still talks to us. But what you feel right now is worse. You feel like it's you that's changing her. I'll tell you right now that no, Ariadne doesn't know what she's getting into, but when it clicks, and it will be soon, she can't let it go. And she can't stop right now- she's blinded. Blinded by imagination and the promises of love if she stays. Cutting her off will maim her in more ways than you can think of, and letting her stay will damage her to whatever end. And it'll twist your heart to pieces either way. So why not let her stay? Loving someone eases the pain of what we do. That's why Dom needed Mal. That's why you needed Dom. That's why Dom needed to get back James and Phillipa. That's why Eames has to be with someone in any capacity. That's why I need Eames. That's why Ariadne chose you. Dom's gone. So chose her."

Arthur, mouth in his palm, and Veda, hand cupping her chin, stared at each other for a long while. He swallowed back the knot in his throat that had arisen because his heart knew how right Veda was. They couldn't take the Fischer job back. Ariadne would always be with them, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

...

The three of them watched Veda dreaming with Eliana. The Don and Eliana's father were not present, only because the bodyguards had returned saying to start without them as they would be a half-hour late. The two lackeys stood outside, smoking and waiting for their boss.

"Fifty-three more seconds on the clock," announced Arthur.

"Ten minutes is a hell of a long time," said Eames.

"It's what she wanted." Veda was covered in sweat.

"I wonder what it looks like in there." Ariadne tilted her head in interest.

"Eliana's a child- she doesn't have the same restrictions as we do. Children aren't biased- their minds are unbridled. You don't want to know what's in there, darling. Children can make up the malice of devils or the magnificence of God. That's far too much for a simple man to handle." murmured Eames. Ariadne only stared wordlessly at him, wondering what he meant.

"Five. Four. Three, two-" Veda woke violently, sitting up and sputtering and coughing. Her eyes shone with utter horror, her breathing ragged on in spurts. She ripped out the IV, wanting nothing more than not to be connected with the girl. She looked at Eliana crazily, putting her hand to her mouth and beginning to weep. Ariadne backed up a step, not having seen anyone wake up like this previously. The breath left Arthur's lungs, wondering what she could have seen; he was too afraid to ask. Eames calmly stepped forward.

"Love." Eames bent down to her, breaking her view of the little girl. Veda tried to shove him out of the way. "Love, stop." He caught her gaze, taking her face between her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I- I tried- I tried-"

"Shh, shh." Veda threw herself on him, and he took her into his arms, sliding into the lawn chair with her.

"_Eames_. Wanted- to wake up early- but they wouldn't let me."

"You're alright now, love."

"But she's not! She's not-" Veda sobbed wretchedly into the crook of Eames' neck, not caring about how she looked. All she wanted was to be warm and happy again. Eames tightened his hold on her, already knowing what she'd seen. He'd just wanted to be wrong.

"Ve-" Eames glared at Arthur to shut up.

The very air in the room stilled as Veda calmed down. Arthur looked beside him, at Ariadne. The look on her face was indescribable, a cross between terror, worry, fascination, and something else. Epiphany. Arthur tentatively took her hand, knowing that this was that moment Veda was talking about. Confused, Ariadne tilted her head up to see Arthur's face. He bit his bottom lip, knowing that he didn't look very reassuring at the moment. But he guessed Ariadne saw what she needed- she smiled. And Arthur's heart swelled with ache.

In the front part of the warehouse, which seemed a universe away, the door opened, and people began talking. The Don and Eliana's father were back. The moment broke, and Arthur and Ariadne went out to greet them.

"Veda just finished dreaming with your granddaughter, Don Romano."

"And-?"

"We don't know yet. She hasn't said anything. She didn't have a good reaction. Something in Eliana scared her." The Don's eyes widened, wondering what could have possibly happened. Quick, sharp footsteps sounded on the concrete floor. Arthur and Ariadne turned around, seeing Veda positively seething. Eames was close behind her, mystified. Before anyone could stop her, Veda's fist connected with Moretti's face.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD." Blood spattered on the floor. He spat out more blood, and a flood of obscenities in Italian coursed out his mouth.

"WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?" He spat, clutching his jaw. She thrust her foot into his knee, sending him crashing to the floor.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. There are no lies in dreamscape. That girl sleeping in there is no longer a girl. I dreamt with her for ten minutes- that's two hours, Mr. Moretti. AND FOR TWO HOURS, I WATCHED YOU RAPE HER. FOR TWO HOURS, I WAS TRAPPED IN HER HEAD, WHILE SHE SCREAMED AT YOU TO STOP. YOU DID IT OVER AND OVER." Veda paused, kneeling to the concrete and looking him in the eyes. Her own eyes had begun to twitch, but she wanted him to see her anger. He shook his head, trying to defend himself. "YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH. And for her, for your_ fucking daughter, _it's still happening. She dreams it over and over like it fucking resets. There is no color, only black and white. The only thing you can hear is your fucking sick remarks about how beautiful she is amidst static and her pleads for you to stop. She said 'Papa, please,' over and over, and you loved it." She pulled him by the collar scruff, by his neck with veins and arteries pulsating- "BASTARD, I COULD END YOU RIGHT NOW-"

"Veda!" Arthur and Eames reined her in; her teeth were bared, primal and instinctive like a tigress protecting her cubs. Eliana's grandfather only stood- face white and paused in suspended animation. Ariadne didn't think he was breathing.

"NO, I AM NOT- LET ME GO- I am not _fucking done_." They let her go. "The worst part of what you did is that you put a mirror there and made her watch. You're so sick that you made her watch you. What sucks and is gonna haunt me forever is that I couldn't help her. I couldn't dream a gun to shoot your ass or even a dull butter knife! Because I wasn't just an observer. I **was** her. Everything that you've ever done to your daughter was done to me. Repeatedly. I bet it was your idea in the first place to put her to dreams so she wouldn't tell, because you knew what was wrong. She's a fucking shell of a human-" A gunshot rang through the warehouse, the bullet going straight through Mr. Moretti's skull. The Don lowered his arm, dropping his pistol to the floor. There were tears in his eyes.

"He was no son of mine."

"I hope he burns in Hell," foamed Veda, body shaking with rage. Her hand went to her totem, holding it for a moment. When she spoke again, her strong voice had depleted, and only feebleness remained: "I don't know if we can bring her back, Don Romano, I don't. But we'll try because she's going insane, and I don't know how much more she can take until there's no brain function at all." She looked around at her team. "We'll all have to go in because-"

"Because of that bastard there, yeah?" Eames completed her sentence, and she realized that he was kneading a small circle into her back with his thumb. The contact was comforting. She nodded. The man may have been physically dead, but in Eliana's head, he would always be alive.

"She called for you, Don, sir," whispered Veda. "She loves you a lot. You're like her own personal superhero. But you never came."

"I am coming now."

They rescued Eliana successfully, changing the dream and banishing her father. The Don paid them all three times the promised amount, and left with his granddaughter tucked into his arms. Moretti's body was thrown into a nearby river unceremoniously, not even held down with rocks to hide his identity. They quietly packed up their things, wanting to just get out, directing their eyes away from the pool of tacky blood on the ground. Dinner at the restaurant adjoined to their new hotel was amiable with a somber backdrop.

No one said anything about the job until Veda talked after dinner while they drank coffee. She took Eames' cigarette from his hand, took a long drag, and nestled it back into his fingers. As she exhaled the smoke, Veda leaned back on the stretch of Eames' arm behind her. She licked her lips slowly as if savoring the taste of ash in her mouth.

"If I have children, and anyone hurts them like that, I will choke the life out of them with my bare hands. Same goes for you all. If anyone ever fucks with you, I'll take a gun, and there'll be a bullet right between the eyes." Veda confirmed her comments by nodding, like a bit of finality. And no one ever talked about that job again.

That day in Milan was the day a little girl got her life back. That was the day Ariadne knew what being in their profession was about. And that also was the day Ariadne realized she had an older sister and a family that she wouldn't exchange for anything.

* * *

15 (Fifteen; Quinze; Quince)

"Oh, Ms. Brighton- glad I caught you."

"Mr. Edwards, hi," greeted Veda. She smiled. "We're going to the playground for a little while."

"Mind if I join you?"

"I don't. Can he come, _mes rêves_?" Veda looked down at the twins. William Edwards grinned at them. He was their teacher- a male teacher was an anomaly in elementary schools. They were currently in first grade.

"Mr. Edwards can come," decided Cayenne. "We like him."

"Good." It was a Friday, late in the afternoon. The conference between Veda, the principal, Mr. Edwards, and the parents of a boy in another first grade class, and that boy's teacher had gone on for two and a half hours. There was a lot of aggression on the parents' side (warranted, as Grayson had broken their son's arm), and a lot of crazy talk from the principals about expelling Grayson (which was stupid because the other boy had been equally wrong in kicking and pushing Cayenne in the mud). Veda had felt attacked, just because the fight seemed to be making Grayson a scapegoat for the school's issues with Veda. But everything had turned out alright. Both boys had received two days of out of school suspension, starting the next Monday. Naturally, that included Cayenne as she'd never go anywhere without Grayson.

Grayson and Cayenne sprinted away from Veda onto the mulch and into the playground, holding hands.

"I guess you wanna talk, Mr. Edwards?" Mr. Edwards' face was very young, almost childlike, but when he spoke, the calmness of his voice his age of early thirties.

"Yes, if that's okay." Veda sat at a nearby picnic table with a clear view of the whole grounds. A lovely thing about Mr. Edwards was that he truly cared about all children, which unfortunately was a trait not all teachers had. He was also unfailingly kind.

"How are you, Ms. Brighton?"

"Veda. No one calls me by my last name except the PTA members, and you're much sweeter than that." Mr. Edwards blushed. Veda could tell he liked her.

"Thanks, er- Veda. I guess you can call me William."

"You're welcome, William, and I'm doing lovely. You?"

"Good, good." He paused, scratching his head. "I don't mean to pry, but what do you do for a living?"

"You mean, why does a single mother and her two kids live in a custom million-dollar home built away from the rest of the town in Sonoma, California, when everyone else in the community lives in modest, middle class homes."

"Uh, yes."

"What do people say?"

"Ms. Bri- Veda- I don't like repeating rumour." Veda looked pointedly at him, eyebrows up. He divulged. "They say a lot of things. That you're a mistress of a corporate giant or a drug lord's mistress or a cult leader. But all of the theories don't put you in the brightest of lights."

"And why do you need to know what I do?" Veda tilted her body, watching Cayenne do flips on the monkey bars.

"I always care about children whose families aren't… conventional."

"Conventional?" Veda openly laughed, eyes crinkling. "Yeah, we're the furthest thing from conventional. I can understand your concern."

"Veda, your children- and forgive me if I sound strange, but your children- they're smart. And I don't just mean good grades, high reading level, and high math scores. I don't mean on paper. Your children don't have friends in the class. They may play together, laugh together, but at the end of the day your children walk out hand in hand to the bus or to your car, and I can see that the other kids are a little wary of them. It's like they're too aware of life in general, like they walk a higher plane-" He blushed. "I'm sorry, this is silly."

Veda smiled sadly. "You're very perceptive. And outside of the people I'm close with, you're the sweetest person I've ever met. You genuinely care, and that's rare. My children are different and will always be because of the nature of my work.

"William Edwards, in the world I live in, there's constant danger. There's guns and betrayal and insanity. My friends are few, but the love is great. We, my friends and I, are the best at what we do. We walk a fine line of right and wrong- some may say we are criminals and others may say we're the most moral people on the planet. You know Lee Saito, of Saito Engineering?"

"Yes- he's richer than Bill Gates."

"Two years ago, the twins had meningitis. They were dying in the hospital in front of my eyes. After, I was swamped with thousands upon thousands of dollars in medical bills- someone like me does not have insurance. I received a letter indicating that a transfer had been made to one of my bank accounts. It was a gift from Saito- enough pay for everything and then some." Mr. Edwards stared, mouth agape. A fear was starting in his fingers, edging its way into him. "Mr. Edwards, that is the extent of my reach. Governments and secret organizations, mafias, CEOs- they whisper my name around the globe. What I do is so specific and so incredulous that you'd never believe me. My friends are the same- their father is the same. But when it comes to the twins, they are loved. Very, very much. If I were to die right now, there are five people who would drop everything and adopt them without thinking twice- not including their father. So don't worry about their home life.

"And as for their intelligence- that's because of the job too, I think." Veda thought of the somnacin and how she had worked throughout her pregnancy. The drug had done something to her children. She nodded over to the twins. "Cayenne isn't spicy like pepper, you know that. But she's a burning fire, determined. You can't put her out. She's brave, fierce. With a lot of nerve," added Veda, seeing Cayenne jump from the top of the monkey bars. "Now Grayson, he's… Most kids think in black and white, that it's either wrong or it isn't. Grayson, from the beginning, he was in shades of gray. He understands everything and defends those he loves with the ferocity of a rabid beast. Nothing trips him up, nothing crosses him. But he's more hesitant." Grayson jumped from the monkey bars and did not land on his feet. Mr. Edwards almost instantly tried to rise to his feet- Veda put her hand on his shoulder. "Just wait. Watch. Don't say anything."

Cayenne fled to Grayson's side and checked him over. She decided he could walk, so she helped him up, and together they went to the picnic table where their mother was. Grayson held out his arm where there was blood seeping from his skin. Cayenne reached into her bookbag, fetching disinfectant wipes, tissue, and her crayon bin. She cleaned the cut while Grayson sat calmly. Next, Cayenne took a Kleenex tissue, folded it neatly, and taped it down to his wound.

"When we get home, get Mama to put alcohol or peroxide on it. And a real bandaid." Cayenne sighed. "Gray, you can't be afraid to fall. You'll never learn right. You just gotta jump! Fly like a bird!"

"I guess." Grayson thought about it a moment. "I guess I should just jump. It's the only way down." Cayenne nodded. Mr. Edwards was absolutely floored.

"Mama?"

"Hm?"

"When are Auntie Ari and Uncle Arthur coming to town?"

"They're in L.A. right now, but they should visit tomorrow."

"Could they stay for the party?" Grayson wondered. "If they were there and Daddy were there-"

"-it'd be so much fun!"

"We'll ask," said Veda.

"They could sleep over! Auntie Ari and I could play with my new dollhouse!"

"Well Uncle Arthur and I could build that roller coaster set!" The Twins, elated, jumped up and ran back to play.

"I've never seen children do that before," murmured Mr. Edwards.

"It is a bit weird. Oh, and you're invited to the party too, as you're a teacher."

"I'll be going… You said your husband would be there?"

"Not married," corrected Veda. "I'm not Mrs. Eames." She grinned with a twinge of what seemed like regret.


	3. To

**The Rescuer** (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

* * *

5 (Five; Cinq; Cinco)

Ariadne noticed it. Noticed how they were strange around each other. When walking down halls, they made sure not to graze each other, and Veda did not hug Eames in the airport, but she was a very touchy person. Ariadne didn't get it, and it made her curious. When going to bed the night that she met Veda, she decided that they were fond of each other. She didn't know how fond at that moment, so she passed it off as general awkwardness. And then that didn't make sense either, since Eames was never awkward around anyone. Even when Veda was in the room, Eames wasn't acting particularly strange.

But Ariadne's observations and assumptions were correct, even if she did not understand them. There were rules. Rules that Veda and Eames never openly said, yet rules they followed.

The first rule was that they were most definitely allowed to see other people. Veda did this sparingly- there weren't many men or women she'd like to get involved with. She didn't have the time. Eames, on the other hand, had various women and men for various cities. However, Veda thought that was a consequence of forging that had engrained itself into Eames.

The second rule was that they never called each other unless it was about a job. No casual dates, no love nest in Monaco. Only during or immediately after a job did anything take place. And when it did, it lasted until either one stated they needed to leave.

The third rule was no touching. The feel of skin on skin was too electric. This rule had become a game- who could go the longest during a job until they gave in. Usually, it was an accident, like brushing against each other in the elevator or passing a bottle of water and their hands touched. But once that happened, the switch was flicked, and they broke down.

The fourth rule was the easiest- not to discuss with each other what they were doing. Talking would only complicate matters, and they said all they had to when their bodies were wrapped together. But everything else was fair game.

The morning after she arrived in L.A. to rescue Cobb, she was awake early. The pills Yusuf gave her had only given her three hours, not five. She felt refreshed, however. She maneuvered the kitchen, finishing preparing breakfast when Arthur, Ariadne, and Eames rolled in at the same time.

"Morning!" She said brightly.

"I'm assuming you slept?" Arthur's eyebrows were raised. She'd looked weary the day before, and he had not been able if that was the flight or her.

"Yep. Three hours."

"Good." Eames and Arthur had the same expression, Ariadne noticed, because their eyes met. It was concern.

"Breakfast?" wondered Ariadne.

"Mhm. I made waffles!" She did a small dance of accomplishment. "Have some."

"Don't mind if I do." The Architect's eyes glittered, reaching for a plate. The others did the same.

"There's also fruit and juice." Breakfast was nice, and Veda was happy to have someone to cook for. She was arranging the soiled plates and cups in the dishwasher when Eames handed her his plate.

"Thanks for breakfast, love. Delectable as always."

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you've got a stray thread on your shirt."

"Hm?" Veda looked- nothing was there.

"I'll get it." Eames removed his hand from his pocket and reached for her. His index finger caught under the sleeve of her t-shirt; his thumb smoothed over the fabric, tugging it slightly. His other fingers ghosted over her skin. Veda's heartbeat faltered a bit, and her stomach churned. Her groin grew hot as blood rushed down, as if to answer his subtle request to let him take the shirt off. He removed the piece of nonexistent thread and cleared his throat. "It's gone now."

"Thanks," she breathed, skin still heated from where he'd touched her. Her cheeks were hot. Eames had purposely broken rule three. And just like that, their buttons were pressed. Veda hadn't had him in almost four months, and she was fast becoming dizzy with desire. She need him. Badly. Very very badly.

Being with him never got old. Ever. So she milked it for all it was worth until he became too familiar with her, and she used a job as an excuse to leave. And when they parted, she'd immerse herself in work to stave off the anger, cursing her thoughts of him. He didn't really mind- he didn't have the right to mind, did he? But when she was with Eames, she filled her days and nights and every bit of herself with him.

Eames swallowed, mentally cursing at himself for not resisting. But she just looked so happy, more dazzling than normal. Something below his stomach lurched, telling him that he wanted her. For a split second, he contemplated taking her right then, but of course, Ariadne and Arthur were present. He backed away slowly and turned on his heel.

Being with her never grew stale. Always fresh and new. So he gave her his all until he was sure she'd gotten tired of him. Then he'd leave, and she never minded. But when he was away from her, his initial thought was to worry about her, maybe find out from the grapevine how she was. But he'd then grow angry about the whole situation, and he'd curse and banish her from his mind and his dreams, focusing on all the other delectable people placing themselves in his view.

* * *

10 (Ten; Dix; Diez)

By nature, Ariadne was downright curious. She couldn't help it. When she was small, she'd pretend to be asleep while the adults' talk swirled around her, and she took it all in, finding their dynamics more interesting than her Fischer-Price toys. Later on, she'd find out that curiosity for people's thoughts made a good architect- building for someone required prying into the mind of the client, knowing them and putting that into a tangible place. Ariadne needed to truly _know_ people.

Not counting the instance that Veda helped Cobb, this was the first time Ariadne had done a job with Veda. She didn't know her at all. So when she saw Veda hooked up to the PASIV without anyone else dreaming with her, Ariadne took the liberty of grasping a line. This was her chance to know.

The first thing Ariadne noticed was the lack of people. She realized this was probably due to the second thing she observed- that she was hovering in the clouds.

"Now I know I did not dream you up," Veda's voice floated over to her. "Hold on." A dramatic scene change rushed through Ariadne's body; her head whirled with blood, her ears popping. The earth settled beneath her, bringing a boardwalk to her feet, a carnival in the distance. Still, no projections were around.

"Hi." Ariadne turned to see Veda in a grey cotton dress; the air billowed through its fibers, giving Veda a very surreal look. She didn't have her sunglasses, and Ariadne decided she shouldn't need to hide tremors in a dream. There shouldn't be any twitches.

"Hi, um…" Ariadne did not know what to say- she wondered if Cobb or Arthur could change scenery so quickly, so fully. She could hear the shores of whatever sea it was; she could hear the disembodied laughter of people having fun, the faint music of the festivities in the carnival. "Where is this?"

Veda shrugged. "I dunno. I like boardwalks. That sea over there-" Veda pointed. "On the other side of that could be the shores of limbo. I don't know. But this is great, isn't it?" She breathed in the salty air. "I just love being outside, wherever it is."

"It's sweet, yes," Ariadne smiled. The sun dipped low into the horizon and climbed back up, fluctuating between sunrise and sunset.

"Can't decide which I like better," Veda said. "C'mon, Ari." She motioned, beckoning her along. Ariadne walked by her side, eyes darting around.

"Where're all the projections?"

"Do you want there to be projections?" She briefly glanced at the intruder in her dream.

"I, um-"

"If you try to change anything, I fear you'll have a very slow, painful death. My mind likes to rely on itself and only itself." Veda sighed. "I don't even like dealing with my projections. They know it, so they're… invisible, I guess."

"Oh. Well, in that case, this is great."

"Good." Their footsteps grew louder while the noises in the background died down; Ariadne felt watched, felt followed. She didn't draw attention to it. "What brings you here, dear?"

"I've never seen your head before- I mean, this is-" Ariadne racked her brain for the words. "A lot. Different than what I expected, but then I didn't know what I'd find to begin with."

"Dom's right, you're nosy," laughed Veda. Ariadne blushed. "No, no, it's not a bad thing. Not right now, anyway. You're scared of my head, aren't you? It's cool, I am too."

"It's beautiful, but it's like, it's like a calm. A calm before the storm. Or hiding a storm."

"Story of my life." They kept on their path to the carnival. Halfway there. "So I suppose you're here to fix me, like you did with Dom. Or at least try."

"Um." Ariadne's ears heated, wondering why she'd stepped in here in the first place. It was frightening, and Veda was making this (whatever this was) hard.

"Go ahead, dear, go ahead." Veda leapt on her toes, dancing on the wooden planks. "I already know what you're going to ask."

Ariadne exhaled heavily, "What's with you and Eames?"

"See how I'm dancing right now?" Veda executed a perfect pirouette. "I can't do this in real life. Since I was little, I always wanted to be a dancer- it didn't matter what kind. Ballet, contemporary, hip-hop, latin… But my parents could never afford dance classes, and it wasn't like we stayed in one place long enough for me to take lessons anyway. And by the time I got to college and could try, one of the top ballerinas in all of Paris told me that I was all wrong for professional dancing. I guess my body was too curved on top of being too old to get good and be professional. She crushed my dreams. They were dumb dreams, but still, no one deserves crushed dreams. Anyway. Eames makes me feel like I never gave up those dreams, that I'm perfect the way I am, and that I'm amazing at whatever I try. I'm not, but it's a great thing. I don't know why he makes me feel that way."

"He loves you," said Ariadne.

Veda gave her a fond, faint smile. "Hm."

"Really, he does. You're wonderful, Veda, of course he-"

"I'm actually really awful. I'm a recluse who's socially awkward- at least, I think I am. Conversely, I've got no concept of personal space, I stare at people, I don't own anything that doesn't fit in my suitcase, I hate wearing shoes, I put my feet up on everything, I eat with my hands, I refuse help, I'm obsessive, I don't sleep, my body twitches out of my control, I eat three times what a normal person does, and sometimes I say stuff to make people uncomfortable." Veda paused. "Oh, and if I can't do something, I pretend that I can."

"That's not too bad- and he loves you anyway." Ariadne put her hands on her hips. "What do you two talk about?"

"I don't know. Everything and nothing, I guess. Y'know, now that you say it, I can't recall any specific conversations. But I know we talk about things. Countries, jobs we've worked, people. Food, perfume. Everything. And yet I don't even know his birthday."

"What?" Ariadne thought this was the strangest relationship ever. She shook her head, eyes traveling up to the now-moonlit sky, becoming even more confused. She gestured with her hands, "Veda, there's no reason why you two can't be together. I mean, I don't get it. Arthur doesn't either. When you're not around, Eames pretends you don't exist and sleeps with every other woman and man on the planet. Doesn't that make you mad?"

Veda, flustered, furrowed her brow; the projections appeared, encircling them and alarming Ariadne.

"Not mad," whispered Veda as her projections wrenched her from Ariadne's side. Clouds advanced upon the beach, and lightning sizzled through the sky. A downpour rained upon them, and wind carried Ariadne's scream to the sea. Veda closed her eyes when the rioting projections wrapped their hands around Ariadne's arms and legs. She did not see the giant axe of one of the projections whose eyes were vicious and unforgiving hoisted up into the air; she did not see Ariadne's head roll on the boardwalk. She felt the blood spatter, though, all over her dress and her face. Veda slowly opened her eyes- the sky cleared, leaving a strange fog in the air. Her projections, nameless people that Veda may or may not have seen before, stared at her with their wide, wide open orbs.

She sighed, feeling naked and wondering if projections really were reflections of one's self, or if they were really just acting out primal feelings to protect her. The projections looked worriedly at each other, then at the place where Ariadne's body once was. A particularly bold one pulled a newly-formed gun from his pocket, stepped forward, and shot Veda between the eyes.

Veda woke to find Ariadne trembling in the lawn chair next to her with Arthur holding her arm, asking her what was wrong. Ariadne shook her head, only stared knowingly at Veda.

"I'm sorry- I felt threatened- I'm sorry, Ariadne." Veda's eyes were full of concern; if one died in a particularly different way to the norm in a dream, the body could go through shock. "They know- I know you weren't hurting me. You were only trying to help. Ari?"

"Your- subconscious- is worse than Cobb's," gasped Ariadne.

"Breathe," coaxed Arthur. She took deep, labored breaths. Ariadne scowled at Veda.

"I'm sorry," Veda said again. "That's why I don't let anyone use me as a dreamer. I warned you. I don't even like my subconscious. In my real dreams, the ones where I don't use a PASIV, it's like that all the time. My subconscious is just responding to constantly being meshed with Marks who don't give a damn about my brain. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Ariadne swallowed. "What are you, then?"

"What?"

"You said you're not mad. What are you, then?"

Veda forced her teeth to show; her smile crept to her eyes, pulling down sad lines. "I'm completely miserable." The two women locked eyes, and both of them began to laugh.

Arthur shook his head, standing up. "Women."

* * *

6 (Six; Six; Seis)

"Are you following me?" asked Eames of Ariadne. She was walking several paces behind him down the sidewalk.

"Where're you going?" Ariadne countered, quickening her pace now that he'd noticed her.

"To get food."

"That's where I'm going." Eames tried not to think of her as annoying, and he let a smile form on his mouth. He stopped abruptly, a bistro catching his eye.

"This place looks good." He stepped inside. "I need a sandwich." They sat down inside and went through the motions of ordering food. Upon eating, they found that the food was delicious.

"Wow, good choice," said Ariadne amidst a mouthful of hummus.

"Why aren't you back at the hotel helping Veda? I thought you'd want to know what's going on with Cobb's rescue."

"I've got more pressing matters," she stated simply.

"And these matters concern me?"

"Yes."

"Ariadne, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three. Why?"

"Hm." Eames had a faraway look in his eye. "I was twenty-three when I was introduced to dreamscape too."

"Oh."

"That was ten years ago."

"Oh." Ariadne scrunched up her face. "You're thirty-three?"

"Surprised?"

"Well, I guess not, you just act-"

"Ageless, yes, I know."

"I was going to say 'immature,' but we can go with that one." Eames rolled his eyes at her.

"Darling, what do you want?"

"Why're you worried about Veda?"

"What?" Eames, taken aback, lurched into defensive mode. "I'm not-"

"Yeah, you're worried. Arthur's worried, but that's just because he knows Veda like he knows Cobb. Why're _you_ worried?"

"I don't know." Eames sighed. "She's not- she can't sleep. Veda can't sleep the way you and I do."

"Why not?"

"Who knows exactly? She experiences a lot of symptoms of sleep deprivation. Hand tremors, microsleeping, eye tremors-"

"The sunglasses." Eames nodded.

"Veda's odd in the fact that she's probably had more time dreaming than me, Yusuf, Arthur, and Cobb combined. She goes into different levels and stays there for what would be weeks or months, and that adds up. I've worked with her a few times, seen her rescue a bit too. She stays under a good few hours heavily sedated with them, finding them inside their heads. You saw with Fischer, ten hours was a week, they said. She goes different levels, too, and when one is stuck in their own dream, the structure is different. There is no proper time. So Limbo is nothing to her." This was all new to Ariadne, yet it made complete sense. A Rescuer like Veda would not be able to create and rescue simultaneously. Losing her grip on reality would be a constant hazard for Veda, and she could quite possibly be endlessly lost. She was probably afraid to sleep, deduced Ariadne. But Eames was dodging the question.

"No, I mean, why do you _care_?"

"Care?"

"About Veda. You care."

"Ariadne."

"I'm trying to help." She paused. "If you'd let me."

Eames shrugged, exhaling heavily. He glanced at Ariadne before beginning the story, not knowing why he was explaining. "Well, in secondary school, there was this kid I picked on all the time. Didn't know him. He was a flat out geek, I swear. Great at math, science, always had a calculator. Walked like an awkward duck without his bloody mum."

"Okay, I get it."

"One day there was a school music show. I wasn't in it-" Eames rolled his eyes- "but he was. Orchestra director said that he had a special treat for us. Geek kid got up on stage wearing a three-piece, holding a violin. He quietly and nervously said he had a piece he wrote himself. We were only like, what- thirteen? And then, as he lined himself up to play, he changed. The kid didn't even have a sheet of music, and I was so confused. And then his back straightened, he closed his eyes and began to play. I swear to God, as he played, Ariadne, his music reached into my soul. And I thought, bloody hell, he's beautiful. His body and his face, his music. All of that other shit melted away, and it was like that was what he was born to do. This air of sensuality and beauty and ethereality just blew my mind. He was so powerful in that moment." Eames faltered in the story, remembering the boy. "After that, I couldn't mock him. I just couldn't. It was like I'd gone inside his mind, you know, like a dream, and seen his heart. I guess he was my first real crush- I don't know. Anyway. Veda's like that to me. All the time, she does that. Like she's constantly in that state of innate power over whatever it is, and-" He stopped abruptly, face reddening.

"You should tell her," decided Ariadne.  
"Ha, no."

"Sounds like you're in love with her, is what it sounds like. You should tell people when you love them."

"Is that what you've done with Arthur?"

"Stop deflecting!" Ariadne huffed, splashes of red inking all over her cheeks. "This is about you! Not me." She folded her arms. "I think she loves you back."

"I don't know about that. And even if she did, I can't do anything about it."

"Why not?"

"Because. We're in two very different worlds, Ariadne. I'm an uneducated thief who lies and cheats and gambles and drinks my way into every situation and into people's beds. I'm a _Forger_ for Christ's sake. I've got people scalping the globe looking to kill me. And look at her- she's never had a drink in her life, she's frequently asked for by name by the United Nations. We're always in two different parts of the world."

"I think you're more alike than you think, Eames."

"Oh, enlighten me, please, you who have known me for like three weeks. And Veda for two days."

"Well, you're extremely intelligent. It takes a lot of ingenuity to forge flawless copies of people, to step into their skin." Eames grinned smugly. "You know how to get what you want, using intellect to understand complexities of the human mind. And she's not such a goodie-goodie as you've put her to be- Veda knows how to deceive and manipulate people. She wears leather racing jackets, and she ignores people and lies…"

"She does have several tattoos," Eames smiled fondly, thinking of her hip, her shoulders, her finger. He knew her body well.

"There you go! And I'm sure people want to kill her too."

"Ariadne, darling, you are too sweet. I see why Arthur thinks you're adorable."

"Ohshutup." She tried to give him a deadpan look, cutting her eyes, but that blush gave her away. Eames showed her a toothy smile, and she shook her head.

* * *

2 (Two; Deux; Dos)

Veda didn't know how she'd be if she drank- if the alcohol would do anything to her dreaming. So, she hadn't had a drop of alcohol in her life, to be honest. The only liquor she'd ever had was the remnants from Eames' tongue. And did it taste good.

She pushed him against the hotel room door, a hand on his belt and the other on his neck. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting that bittersweet heaven associated with him. Veda pressed herself into Eames' body, purposely catching between his thighs. Her lips moved down to his jaw as a groan escaped from Eames' throat. His head fell back onto the door.

"You're such a bloody vixen." He was breathless, groping at her body.

"Only with you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, love." Eames swallowed. "But just let me get the room key." Veda sighed with disappointment and impatience. She looked down the hall, wondering if anyone had seen them. But then she didn't care. Eames pushed the heavy door open, and they stumbled inside.

"I waited _all damn day_ for this," whined Veda, fumbling through the buttons on his shirt.

"Nice to know you missed me in Paris." He violently yanked down her jeans. They fell to the floor. "I-"

"Shut up." She paused, looking him in the eyes. They were fraught with lust. "Shut up and fuck me." Eames needed no further persuading; he hoisted her up, and her legs went right around his midsection.

Ten seconds and both of their sets of clothing were off and thrown somewhere in the room. Three more seconds and Veda was supine on the bed, Eames' lips murmuring sexed words between kissing and licking the skin of her neck. Veda's hands traveled down his back, fingernails grazing his spine. He shivered and couldn't take it anymore, ready to ravish her and make her take every bit of him.

...

Eames woke to a soft humming sound. He stretched out his arms and found himself alone in the bed. He forced himself to look at the clock- three in the morning. Eames slowly picked himself from the bed, following the sound into the bathroom.

"Oh, hi, did I wake you?" Veda was relaxing in the bathtub, immersed in deep water with millions of scented bubbles shielding any view Eames had of her body.

"Yes."

"Sorry. I just- it's a Jacuzzi." She shrugged, closing her eyes and resting her head on the side of the tub. "I've never stayed in a hotel with such a big Jacuzzi tub."

"If you fall asleep, you'll drown, love," Eames said amusedly.

"You're naked, Eames, get in the tub." It did look relaxing. He stepped inside and situated himself opposite her.

"Dammit. This- aah." One of the jets was directly on his lumbar, tickling and massaging him right where that ache persisted from sitting at a bar stool all day in the workspace.

"It's the best thing ever," she agreed lazily, shifting to sit up. "I even ordered room service." She reached for a plate from the tiled shelf near her head.

"At three in the morning?"

"I was hungry and I thought it'd be fun. Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging. Pass the strawberries." She gave him the plate. "Is there champagne?"

"I don't drink, and you don't need any more than you already had earlier."

"I can hold my liquor."

"This is Germany- everyone holds their liquor. Doesn't mean they don't get hangovers." Veda bit into a strawberry. Eames chuckled to himself.

"What?" She chewed slowly.

"You- I forgot how you eat. It's funny." She lifted her foot and splashed water in his face. Some bubbles stuck to his nose and chin.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"No, it's not bad." Eames still smiled, wiping the soapy residue from his face. "I just, I always notice people's habits. Don't know why I forgot yours. It's remarkably sexy, love, don't stop." Eames took another strawberry for himself. Veda stopped mid-bite, raising her eyebrows and evaluating herself. Both her thumb and her index finger were in her mouth as she bit the remainder of her fruit. She licked her fingers.

"Hm." She pulled herself forward through the water, opening her mouth for Eames to feed the berry to her. He obliged, eyebrow raised, as Veda took it between her lips, letting his fingers enter as well. Some of the juice ran down his finger, and Veda sucked it off, keeping eye contact with Eames.

"Oh bloody _hell_," moaned Eames, grabbing her down. She yelped, water splashing everywhere. Cradling her in his arms, he wiped the water from her face. "You're absolutely gorgeous."

"You're dashing." Their lips meshed together, warm and smooth. A whimper of happiness fell from Veda's mouth into Eames'. This time, the lovemaking was slow and deep.


	4. Each

**The Rescuer** (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

* * *

13 (Thirteen; Treize; Trece)

Veda found Ariadne in a bathroom stall, shivering on the ground, eyes glossy. She swallowed back tears, pulling out her phone to call Arthur.

"Hey, Arthur, I found her."

_"Oh thank God. Where are you?"_

"Mumbai."

_"What? They took her that far-"_ Veda could hear the quiet rage in his voice. He was about to lose control.

"I don't want to stay here," she said quickly. "They could still be around. Where are you?"

_"Singapore."_

"Well, do you wanna meet at a halfway point or what?"

_"Tokyo. That's where Eames is. And if we run into anything, that's Saito's turf."_

"Alright, I-" People come in. People with heavy footsteps, talking in Hindi. She knew who they were. "Damn. Bye." Veda ducked into the stall with Ariadne and gripped her gun under her leather jacket. This was not a dream. She couldn't miss, couldn't get shot. She inhaled, held it for a few seconds, and let it go, sliding her sunglasses over her eyes. The tremors needed to hold off until she was done shooting. She kicked open the door and pumped bullets into Ariadne's kidnappers.

Later on, Veda found out that the disturbance at that mall was passed off as terrorism. Veda had brought down that whole compound, taking the dead men's guns and raising hell, and she didn't care. Amidst the confusion, she slipped herself and Ariadne onto a private jet, flashing euros to the pilot.

When they reached Tokyo, Arthur and Eames were waiting most impatiently at the gate. Arthur saw them first, Veda with one arm wrapped around Ariadne's shoulders and Ariadne dazed with her mouth slightly open. The Point Man bolted forward, reaching for his Architect.

"Ari?"

No answer.

"C'mon." Arthur picked her up, not caring how it looked in a crowded airport. The four of them didn't speak until they reached the hotel. Arthur set her on the couch, arranging pillows and getting her comfortable.

"Get me a blanket- she's trembling." Eames passed him a down throw to wrap around Ariadne. "How'd you find her?"

"Bathroom stall in a strip mall. The store she was in was deserted, and there were henchmen. I tore that shit apart, Arthur. If they find out that was me…" She shook her head. "But during the flight, she didn't say a word."

"I've seen this before," Eames piped up. "Someone's messed with her head."

"What, you mean-?" Eames nodded. Arthur turned to Veda.

"I didn't want to believe it, but yeah, that's what this is. A de-wiring," she confirmed Eames' conclusion.

"Get me the PASIV."

"Arthur, we can't be hasty with this-"

"Eames! This isn't just some expendable Mark. This is Ariadne! Hook us up!"

"I'm going in too, then," said Eames. Veda got the PASIV, but held it back from Arthur.

"Wait, I'm not setting it up until you listen- there's going to be completely ridiculous firepower and her subconscious is gonna tear us to _shreds_ if we're not careful," warned Veda.

"I got it, V. Let's _go_."

"You sure?" Arthur glared. "I'm just saying I can go in alone." If it was possible, his glare intensified. "Okay, okay."

The three of them hooked up, and Veda set it for six hours of dream time.

...

"We're still so far away," grunted Arthur, breathing heavily. They were in a blank room with nothing but a door in the distance.

"Run backwards," said Veda, getting an idea. Arthur turned around. "No, look at the door and run backwards." The three of them tried it, and within a few minutes, the door was arm's length away.

"Wow. How'd you know to do that?"

"It's Ariadne's head- she's not going to be straightforward," Eames said.

"Oh, you two- don't try and change anything like the scenery or the architecture." Veda thought a moment. "Don't dream anything unless you're holding it, like a gun. She'll know." Arthur pushed open the door, and they found themselves on a tall grassy knoll. Their heads darted around, taking in the new scenery.

The landscape was grassy but barren, with nothing in the distance. In front of them was a single, lone tower like a lighthouse on the rocky cliffs of the ocean. It was almost dawn, and there was a bone-chilling wind whistling through the air.

"That's the code for S.O.S.," said Arthur, pointing to the light blinking from the top of the tower. He moved forward; Eames grabbed the scruff of his jacket.

"No, look." Around the base of the tower was a stone wall; angry guards dressed in all black stood alertly on it. There were maybe a hundred of them. "You'll be dead in two seconds."

"Can't we approach from the sea?" The two men looked to Veda. She assessed the portrait in front of her, gears turning.

"No. That's probably the shores of limbo, and look at the sand- we're at low tide. See the stone wall? When it's high tide, the tower and its wall are just floating there. We should cross now, and when we cross, we'll have to move fast- the waves are getting choppier."

"There's no door to the lighthouse. How're we to get in?"

"Let me take care of that," said Veda. "Just get us past the wall, and then follow my lead from there." Arthur nodded, pulling a gun from behind his back.

"Let's go." The three of them sprinted down the hill, Arthur in front and Eames bringing up the rear. The guard projections saw them and began to shoot. Arthur shot back, a bullet narrowly missing his cheek. Jarring instructions from the projections bellowed into the air, and the language the projections used was harsh and guttural, like nothing any of them had ever heard.

There was a ladder to the left of them, near where the water met the wall. They ran down, missing bullet after bullet.

"Cover me!" Arthur cried, putting the gun away and stepping into the rungs of the ladder. Eames took down two projections as the point man climbed.

"Hurry up, darling, they're coming!" Veda started up next. Arthur reached the top of the wall, greeting a projection immediately. The guard threw a punch; Arthur dodged and almost lost his footing, forcing the metal of his gun into the projection's head.

"There's no physics, if you don't want there to be! Arthur, just do it!" instructed Veda, ducking her head as she made it onto the wall. She demonstrated what she meant by stretching down, walking on the side of the stone, parallel to the ground. Something in Arthur clicked, and he grabbed the nearest projection and threw him off the wall; he was light as a feather. Eames shrugged and walked up the wall.

"The lighthouse- we have a path through!"

"No, leave none of the guards alive- they're the remnants of the de-wiring!" Veda had two guns in her hand, shooting at the projections without discrimination.

"Well, in that case-" Eames took grenades from his pocket, deciding to take down the whole wall. Arthur kept advancing on the projections, punching and kicking them, as he was too close for gunfire. Explosions sounded from behind Veda and Arthur; they could feel the heat on the back of their necks.

It was lucky that Eames had decided to use a machine gun and blast the projections into oblivion- there were just too many of them to fight by hand. Finally, when all was quiet, they caught their breaths.

"Alright, now what do we do? We can't blow up the lighthouse." A rumbling shook the wall; Eames and Arthur looked alarmed.

"This way," said Veda, running forward, building cantilevered steps on the tower. They dashed up the winding stairs, energy renewed. Arthur passed Veda on the path once he saw the opening to the windows of the lighthouse. He stepped in first, Veda second, and Eames last.

"What the hell…" whispered Eames. Ariadne was passively curled in the arms of someone who held a surprising resemblance to Arthur. But something was terribly wrong about this Arthur, as he was glowering at them.

"How did you get up here?" He questioned, voice callous and defiant. "I sealed this off against those guards. You're forgeries, aren't you?" The Other Arthur paused, waiting for an answer. "SPEAK!"

"Don't worry, Arthur, this is just her projection of you, protecting her." Veda murmured in Arthur's ear. She spoke up, addressing the Other Arthur, "We're here to help."

"Veda?" He tilted his head. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Have you ever seen me in her head before?" asked Veda. This Arthur thought a moment, then clutched Ariadne tighter.

"NO! I'm not handing her over to you." He looked down at Ariadne; her eyes were still dazed.

"Ariadne?"

"Don't talk to her! Talk to me!"

"Okay, Arthur, okay. It's alright." Veda held up her hands in surrender. "We just wanna help."

"Guns down. Now," he barked. The real Arthur still hadn't spoken; the three of them laid down their weapons.

"We saw your S.O.S," began Eames. "So we came." He nodded over to the blinking light behind the Other Arthur.

"Those projections have been trying to breach this lighthouse for days," complained Other Arthur. "I'm not sure on how you got up here, but I'm not letting you take her."

Arthur stepped forward. "Ariadne?" The Other Arthur covered her face, his facial features tightening. "Ari, I know you can hear me, sweetheart. I'm here."

"She's not listening to you, you stupid projection."

"I'm right here, and I'm sorry for not being there. But I'm not gonna let this happen to you, Ari." Arthur gulped. "I love you too much." The Other Arthur looked terribly confused at the absurdity coming from the real Arthur's mouth. But Ariadne stirred.

"A-Arthur?" Her eyes softened upon seeing the Point Man with a very relieved expression on his face. The Other Arthur's stare shifted down to her, his grip loosening. As Ariadne reached for Arthur, the projection began to fade away. "You came."

"Of course I did." He took her into his arms with a smile. Veda's eyes were dancing with joy- this was the first time she'd ever heard Arthur say those words. Eames was utterly and wholly impressed.

...

"Cobb! Cobb, I can't believe you're saying this. Do you hear yourself right now?" Arthur's eyes were wide, trying and failing to make sense of what his old friend was telling him.

"I know what I'm saying, Arthur. I don't want James and Phillipa to be a part of the world that you're in."

"_We_. We're in. You can't just cut us off-" He motioned to Veda and himself. Ariadne was already in the car's backseat, watching the conversation taking place on the sidewalk. Eames was leaning on the car roof, smoking a cigarette, trying not to interject. He'd known this was what was going to happen.

"They're just children, Arthur, who need their father!"

"We're their family too," Arthur said emptily. Really, Arthur had no right to tell Cobb how to run his children's lives. If Cobb wanted to break all contact with them, it was his call. But Arthur didn't know how to communicate how heartbroken he was that Cobb was leaving them out in the dust. He didn't know how to explain how violated he felt that the only place he'd ever really called home was being pulled out from under him. Arthur didn't know how to say that he loved Cobb. That Cobb was like his father, like his brother, and even like his child. He looked up to him, he looked out for him. This was like a knife of betrayal in Arthur's heart.

"I appreciate all you've done, Arthur, really. God knows I do." Cobb sighed. "But I know it's not good for them. They're growing up, they're asking questions- questions that I can't answer without breaking what's left of their innocence."

"I just- if you were still working with us, I know that what happened to Ari wouldn't've happened. I'm not ready- I'm not done." It was only a few days after they'd returned from Tokyo with Ariadne. Cobb didn't want to admit anything to Arthur.

"I'm sorry, I just can't do this. I've got more than enough saved up, and I'm teaching classes at the college. They need a normal life, and I can't have you four waltzing in with your burdens and issues."

"Fine. Cut us off." Arthur was fuming. How could he-?

"Dom." Veda touched his shoulder. "You can't get back what you had before Mal died, you know that, right?"

"I know. I just want to make things right."

"Okay." Veda hugged him. "We'll leave."

"What?" Arthur cried. "Cobol's probably still looking-"

"It's been a year, Arthur," said Veda. "They're not coming."

"Fine." Arthur threw up his hands and moved to the car. Veda stared into Dom's eyes, her heart understanding the sadness that lay there.

"I'm pregnant, Dom. With twins." His eyes widened, looking her over. He could see a slight baby bump. She continued, "And I know, without a doubt, that if something happened to me, you'd come running to take care of them. I would do the same for James and Phillipa. We all would. I need you to take care of those children fiercer than you've ever done before, and I'm not saying this as your friend. I'm saying this as someone who's seen the destruction of your wife. We'll leave you alone, but you have to let us know from time to time that you're happy." Her eyes cut to the house "That they're happy. He'll never say it, but Arthur loves you. We all love you. So take care of them and yourself." Veda backed away, staring at Dom.

"I will." Cobb swallowed, nodding his head. "I will." Arthur got into the backseat with Ariadne; her hand found his and squeezed it tight. She could see the tears in his eyes. She smiled a small, wistful smile at her mentor. Dom returned it; Eames nodded curtly at him, mouth in a sort of grimace. Dom's eyes burned into Eames', begging him to take care of Veda. Arthur stared sternly at Cobb until he looked at him; Cobb could see the hurt and sadness in him. Cobb knew that was his fault. All of it was. He smiled sadly at his Point Man, knowing that nothing could sever the cord of their history together. And his last silent goodbye was to Veda; she got in the car, put her whistle in her mouth, and tweeted three times. He half-waved as Eames drove off.

That was the last time they ever saw Dominick Cobb face-to-face. And while Veda was in the hospital about to give birth, she realized that that spot on the sidewalk was the exact place she'd told Dom to let Mal go.

James and Phillipa never asked about the pictures in their father's old studio, the pictures of a woman with a very pregnant stomach, the pictures of a half-remembered Arthur and a different woman in a white dress getting married, and the pictures of a Brit with a lopsided grin holding up two tiny balls of swaddled children.

* * *

14 (Fourteen; Quatorze; Catorce)

Arthur yawned, stretching out his arms. He and Eames spent the better part of the day researching- Eames had stationed himself around the Mark's family, trying to find an in, and Arthur had gathered information on the Mark.

"This is not gonna be easy. Why the hell's the bloke gotta be a recluse, for Christ's sake," grumbled Eames.

"He may be a recluse, but he's one of the richest men in the world." After pulling out the key to the flat they'd rented, Arthur unlocked the door. They found Ariadne adorning headphones, covered in wood shavings. She briefly looked up, gave a small wave with her utility knife, and went back to work.

"She hasn't moved, has she?" Eames raised his eyebrows at her diligence, moving to collapse on the sofa.

"No, not at all." Arthur smiled and reached for his phone at the dining table, hoping that no one, especially not their employer, had called. He found eleven missed calls, all from the same, unknown number and one from Veda. There was an unheard message as well. "Ariadne?" She didn't answer, consumed in the music and the model. Arthur tapped her on the shoulder.

"What?" Her voice expressed annoyance.

"Have you had anything to eat since we left?"

"I couldn't break- haven't found a stopping point." Eames shook his head, amused, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You've got to eat sometime." Arthur pressed the replay button on his phone, putting it on speakerphone.

_"Arthur, it's Veda. Please, please, please call me back. I'll try Ari's phone next. Eames isn't answering."_ The phone clicked off.

"That didn't sound good…" Ariadne trailed off. She reached for her phone, and Eames grabbed his off the coffee table. They both had missed calls from her and played back their messages.

_"Ariadne? This is Veda. Please call back. Where the hell are you guys?" _She sounded panicked, like she was crying. The call dropped.

_"Eames, it's V. Call me back- I had to take the twins to the hospital."_ Eames' eyes widened, and the message rolled to the next one.

_"Eames- Cayenne and Grayson are sick-" _a pause for a sob- _"and the doctors are saying that it's meningitis. They're crying for you, and the doctors won't let me see them. Please come home. This is the hospital phone. Las Hadas Regional."_ The phone cut off. There was one more message, but Eames was already getting his suitcase.

_"Eames- they got worse. They're airlifting them to LA's children's hospital-" _There was a pause, where Veda was frantically telling someone that she was going in the helicopter too. _"And I'm going with them. Where are you?"_ Another bit of silence- it sounded like she was crying. _"They need you, you know. I need you_." She hung up.

"Eames-" Arthur called. "Eames, wait!"

"What?" Eames was halfway out the door.

"We're coming with you," said Ariadne.

"C'mon then!" The three of them left in the next five minutes.

...

"Right this way." A nurse showed the three of them down the hall of the ICU. It was filled with people, many of them stared strangely at three of them, dressed so formally. It made Ariadne and Arthur a bit uncomfortable. Eames didn't care- he saw Veda ahead of them, staring through a window of a hospital room. She had her whistle in her mouth.

"Veda!" Eames' steps quickened, moving ahead of the nurse. Veda turned slowly, not wanting to take her bloodshot eyes off her children. When he got to her, she threw her arms around his neck, knowing who it was, and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Where- have- you- been?"

"I'm sorry, love, we were out all day, and the plane from Munich was delayed." He kissed her forehead. "How are they?" Eames peered into the room and saw two very similar, very fragile small bodies side-by-side in hospital beds. A pang of fear and a twinge of guilt tugged at his insides. For the first time in his life, Eames was very afraid.

"They need to make it through the night, the doctors said. If they can make it through the night, they'll be okay. They're just four years old- so little, and the doctors won't say it, but they're not hopeful." Veda broke down again. Arthur and Ariadne had caught up just in time to hear what Veda said. Still alarmed and heart pounding, Eames pushed open the door to his children's room, blood rushing through his head.

"So they're giving them treatment?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. I made them do every single possible treatment-" Veda sighed. "Eames, you shouldn't go in without a mask…"

"Screw the mask- they're my children." Eames reached for the first one by the door, which was Grayson. The color was drained from the little boy's face, brow furrowed and uncomfortable. Eames carefully stroked his hair and took his hand. "Hey, pup, I'm sorry I wasn't here." Eames saw the IV sticking out of his arm, lifted his head and saw the monitors and the machines his little boy was hooked up to. He choked on his breath.

"Here, Eames." Arthur reached out, handing him a mask to put around his face; he had one pressed to his mouth and nose already.

"Thanks." Arthur nodded, not knowing what to say. The twins were in bad, very bad shape.

A tiny, weary voice came from across the room. "Daddy?" A cough.

"Cayenne!" Eames dashed over to the other bed, forgetting his mask, and leaned forward into the bed. "Yes, pup, it's me."

"I don't feel good, Daddy." Cayenne moaned, gazing at her father with the same doe eyes Veda had. She scratched at the needle in her arm.

"I know, but you can't touch it, Cayenne. It's gonna make you better."

"I wanna go home." Eames pressed his lips to her forehead. His princess was shattering his heart into a million pieces.

"I know."

"I want my kitty." Cayenne looked around the room. "Where's Mama?"

"She's getting you some juice," replied Arthur, seeing Eames was unable to talk.

"Oh. Hi." Cayenne waved a limp hand at Arthur, then at Ariadne.

"Hey, Cayenne," said Ariadne, knowing that the girl couldn't see her smile under the mask. She petted her leg gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm cold. My whole body hurts."

"I'll find you a blanket if I can, okay?"

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Chimère, I have your juice." Veda had returned, holding a cup with a straw. "It's that pomegranate you like." As Veda crossed the room, Grayson's body began to jolt suddenly; his machines began beeping wildly. The juice splattered, painting the floor a dark, bloody crimson. She bolted forward to her son, eyes flooding with tears once again.

"NURSE!" Arthur called out the hall. "NURSE!" A troupe of nurses bounded in, immediately tending to Grayson, pulling down his bed and putting him on his side.

Cayenne began to scream wildly once she saw Grayson seizing, clutching onto Eames' shirt and causing her machines to go off too. Ariadne leaned on Cayenne's bed, tears stinging in her wide eyes. Arthur's knuckles went white on the window ledge, ripping his eyes away from the sick boy. Eames instinctively rubbed Cayenne's back, failing to comfort her. Veda's eyes connected with Eames', and they both, in that moment, prayed that their children would be okay.

* * *

12 (Twelve; Douze; Doce)

"Just take the trial," Yusuf pestered Arthur. "I just want to make sure there aren't any side effects."

"Side effects? Yusuf, I'm not a lab rat," grumbled Arthur. He continued typing on his laptop, researching information on their new Mark. "Ask Veda." He nodded over to Veda, who was sitting across from him, immersed in some nonsense on her screen. She gave him one of her trademark looks.

"The hell I will."

"Well, now, that would defeat the purpose," sighed the Chemist.

"What?"

"It's only going to be like three minutes. Honest." Yusuf looked positively desperate through his goggles, syringe in hand. Arthur raised his eyebrows at him, sighing.

"Fine, fine. What's this new drug?"

"It's an organic form of the compounds. Took me the better part of two weeks to manipulate them."

"Organic? Since when do you dabble in o-chem?" He let Yusuf swab his arm while settling himself in the chair.

"It's a challenge, Arthur. You're not the only one who likes challenges, now are you?" He grinned. "Tell me if everything is stable. Here we go." Veda watched Arthur fall asleep.

"What if it doesn't work?" Veda wondered.

"Oh, I'm positive the compounds will work." Yusuf monitored his heart rate. "When are you telling Eames?"

"How do you know it's him?"

"Psh." Yusuf cut his eyes at her. "I've known you two for years- I knew what was happening before you two did."

"Ha. Ha." Veda sighed. "I need to go to the doctor, but I don't-"

"We're back!" Ariadne, carrying coffees and tea, ambled into the warehouse with Eames close behind. She divvied up the cups, careful not to spill any.

"Well, good news is that the Mark's wife makes excellent pastries." Eames held up a paper bag; Veda's eyes lit up, gesturing for it. "So, drug trials, eh, Yusuf?"

"Mhm. Just about to wake him up."

"Oh, allow me." Eames grinned, and without another word, Arthur fell to the floor.

"AH! Dammit, Eames!" He glared up at him. Eames only chuckled and strode off to his seat at the table, shaking his head.

"Well, how was it?" Yusuf inquired.

"Fine. Same as normal." He dusted himself off and seated himself at his laptop again.

"Lovely. Your pulse was fine, and I didn't notice anything strange. I think the trial's done. Finally." Yusuf looked particularly pleased with himself.

"How long were you working on that compound?" Ariadne asked, biting into a muffin.

"Two weeks." Veda couldn't meet Yusuf's eyes. She busied herself with her tea.

"What is it?"

"Plant-based, organic somnacin. That stuff isn't cheap, I tell you. But I finally got it. My client's very happy." Veda smiled faintly at the cockiness coming out of Yusuf's mouth.

"Who's the client that needs organic somnacin?" Arthur asked. He didn't think Yusuf was doing it as a job, only for fun. Because that was Yusuf's idea of fun.

"Me," Veda said quietly. She turned her head slightly to the right, to look at Eames. "Because I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"Wow."

Eames had frozen in his chair, staring at Veda incredulously. And suddenly, in one swift movement, he stood, put his hands on her cheeks, and kissed her full on the mouth.

...

Eames was in a very good mood. Veda had left hurriedly hours before, getting a call from Miles. He was practically skipping around the flat they were renting for the job, thinking of nothing but babies. He wasn't even upset that he hadn't gotten to talk to Veda alone, that she'd only been in town for a total of six hours and forty-five minutes before she'd had to leave. Ariadne thought it was funny- Eames had never been so happy around them.

"May I, pup?" Eames bowed, arm out for Ariadne to take.

"Haha, you may." Eames took her hand and spun her around, singing.

"You're so stupid," grumbled Arthur, typing harshly on the computer, venting out his irritation.

"I think you're being what the Americans call a 'hater,' Arthur darling. I don't think you want that."

"You're being an ass," shot Arthur. Yusuf looked up from his beakers, and Eames let go of Ariadne and crossed the room. He leaned on the table.

"Okay, Mr. Pissy Britches, what's your deal? I'm having a baby!"

"And what are you gonna do with this baby, Eames?"

"What? Well obviously, Arthur, I'm going to _raise_ the baby."

"Oh, so you're saying you're going to be responsible for once and marry Veda?"

"Arthur, I can't-"

"No, you won't marry her, fucking bastard. Look at the collar of your shirt! It's got lipstick stains! Who were you with last night? Certainly not Veda, the mother of your kid. She was in Morocco." Arthur got up.

"Arthur, you don't get-"

"What, your stupid identity issues? The reasons why you've got to sleep with everyone-"

"I study people! I-"

"Don't give me your 'I'm a forger' shit speech. I already know it. And I don't care. You sleep around, you lie, you cheat, you're a miserable alcoholic chicken-shit _bitch_ with borderline multiple personality disorder." Arthur couldn't believe the words flooding out of his mouth, but he kept going. "And I don't know what Veda sees in you, Eames, but I swear to God, if you screw over Veda or that baby, I'll-"

"What, Arthur? You'll fucking what?" Eames sucked his teeth. "Oh piss off. You're all bark and no bite except when you're in a dream. And this is fucking reality."

"Reality? If this is real, then go do the right thing."

"THERE IS NO RIGHT THING RIGHT NOW!" bellowed Eames. He never raised his voice. Ariadne was almost positive one was going to hit the other. Eames took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Arthur, you don't know the first thing about me and Veda. At all. So just stay there in your fucking sweater-vested reality."

"You're so goddamn stubborn-"

"I don't- I don't need this. I'm leaving." Eames backed away, heading for the door.

"Oh, yeah, Eames, just run. YOU'RE JUST RUNNING THE HELL AWAY." Eames spun back, advancing on Arthur. He leaned into his face, gray eyes blazing with fire.

"Arthur- Arthur you prissy, holier-than-thou **fucker**! Don't tell me what I'm doing! I know what I'm doing! There's beauty that you don't see! I can see it, and I fuck because it gives me a small smidgen of that beauty! I lie so I can appear better than I am. I cheat because I'm not smart enough to get ahead the honest way. I drink to blur the lines of right and wrong because there _is_ _no _right and wrong anymore. And dammit, my mind is so fucked up from all that I've done that it's compartmentalizing and- you know what? I don't have to explain _shit_ to you. I'm leaving. You can do the fucking job without me!" Eames grabbed his duffel bag from the corner.

"Yeah, leave. LEAVE. I'm taking your share!"

"HAVE IT." The door slammed behind Eames. They heard his footsteps fade away. Arthur huffed and slicked his hair back with his hand.

"You should've-"

"Ariadne, I don't wanna hear-" She half-punched his shoulder.

"Oh, too bad, you're gonna hear it. I told you that we _don't understand _what happened, and we never will until they tell us. You can't force what you want on them." She sighed. "C'mon, we've got work to do."

"Dammit, I need a scotch."

"Me too."

"Me three," nodded Yusuf.


	5. Other

**The Rescuer** (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

**Disclaimer_: _**I own none of Christopher Nolan's works. But I really want to hug the living daylights out of him for it. I also don't own the songs at the end.

* * *

1 (One; Un; Uno)

Of course, the first time they'd met, Veda instantly liked Eames. This was years ago, before Phillipa was even born, before her tremors began. Eames- she liked his joking, she liked his clothes, she liked the odd way he flipped his casino chip totem through his fingers. She was only nineteen, newly discovering the power sensuality could wield, and meeting new men still frazzled her and made her feel very much a woman, even if he was just being a gentleman. As she observed him, however, she realized that the man was far deeper (and therefore, more mysterious) than the average person. This made his mind more interesting to think about, which made him more interesting in general. And Veda needed interesting things and people in her life.

The first time she'd met Eames, they all went out to dinner- she, he, Cobb, and Arthur; they'd chosen to eat at a Japanese grill, one that made the food in front of you. They were going over the procedures of this job; they'd only been working together for a day or two. As the chef sliced, diced, and fired their food, Eames' eyes grew wide, and he began flirting with the chef. He was flirtatious with everyone, he was one of those types, but it seemed like he really meant it. He was excellent at what he did, the chef. Veda found herself staring at the movements of his hands, his boldness at handling the fire. And that was it. Eames was in awe.

So, after dinner, Veda said, "He was beautiful." Eames contemplated her for a moment, staring at her- not her face, but _her_. And finally, he smiled faintly and nodded.

"Isn't he, though?" He put his hand up to her ear, stroking the side of her face; his fingers finally landed on her dangling earring. He said, gazing with his odd, stone-colored eyes into her own, "These are beautiful, love."

"Thanks." That was the first night they slept together. Which was odd- Veda wasn't the type to just sleep with someone so carelessly, but she never needed someone so badly before. The door had been opened, and on the other side were waters with untold depth. She wanted to know what was in those waters that were Eames' persona.

It was cliché for someone to say that they were meant to be with another person. But oh, it was true in this case. His arms made the perfect cradle to hold her body while her head fit into the crook of his neck properly. Even their hands navigated their bodies with a strange innate knowledge, yet holding a bizarre sense of hesitancy. Their lips and hips and legs and arms molded exactly into each other's, and it felt too right. They nipped and groped at each other in the night for what seemed like days, trying to commit the other to memory and knowing they could never dream this up or replicate it.

And afterwards, when she thought maybe she'd done something horribly wrong, she felt his lips on her hip; it sent a surging tingle up and then back down her spine, landing between her legs. And she needed his body. Again.

"This tattoo. It's nice, love." His sore, reddened lips traced the winding, tree-like inking from her lower hip all the way up to her shoulder blade. Smiling goofily, Eames wrapped a muscular, warm arm around her, forcing her into him. She lifted her face, luring him in for another kiss; she realized she didn't care if it was wrong. And it couldn't be wrong, could it? All she wanted was what he had. But what it was that he had, though, was an enigma.

* * *

8 (Eight; Huit; Ocho)

Eames strolled idly into the lobby of the hotel; he'd just received a message from Yusuf that Cobb had woken from his coma. Out of habit, he scanned the area while heading for the elevators; someone caught his eye. Frowning, Eames took a detour to the café just off of the lobby. The smell of hot coffee and bakery goods filtered through his nose; the temperature was almost frigid as the vents were spewing air-conditioning into the establishment. He was almost to the object of his destination when he realized that there was something wrong.

Veda, sitting at a circular corner table, faced looking out the window, but Eames knew from her bare shoulders that she wasn't right. Her fingers traced the rim of a mug of steaming hot liquid. Eames guessed tea.

"Veda?" His fingers touched her shoulder's skin- sweaty, cold. She jerked to look at him. Veda was on the verge of tears. She took her whistle totem from her mouth.

"I don't know how I got here," she whispered, her big doe eyes were more tired, more wide than normal. She looked down at her cup. "I don't- I don't remember ordering this, putting sugar in it, or even- I don't- Thought I was dreaming-" She looked back up at Eames, tears streaming freely from her eyes that were now twitching. Her hand went up to her hair, for her sunglasses. She let out a sob. "I forgot them, didn't I?" She buried her face in her hands.

Swallowing back a strange, unwanted lump in his throat, Eames took a crisp ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and put it on the table. He shluffed off his sport jacket, seeing that Veda was shivering. He put it around her frame. He cleared his throat.

"C'mon, love. Let's get you back up to the room," he whispered. She held up a hand, telling him to wait. He knew she wanted the tremors to pass before they went into the lobby. A few minutes went by, and she stood, loosely taking his hand. Without a word, Eames moved her along. He entered the elevator and pressed the button for it to shut before anyone else could board. Eames took a sideways peek at her; Veda stared straight ahead, probably lost in thought. Eames followed her lead and looked ahead.

"Thanks," she finally said; they passed the third floor.

"I'm sure if Arthur or Ariadne saw you-"

"No, I mean, thanks. For being a constant in my life." She smiled up at him. His cheeks grew hot. He was a bit shocked, to say the least. "Everything just moves so fast, you know? Changing, moving, constant flux. I haven't had a house since me and Mal shared that stupid apartment in Paris." Fourth floor.

"I'll always be your anchor, love." He stroked her cheek. Veda stared at him seriously, mouth in a thin line, trying to figure out what he meant. He was always so convolutedly unclear with her. He swallowed, knowing that if he said what he was about to say, he couldn't go back. "You're the only woman that I'd want to have my children."

"You're the only man whose children I'd want to carry." Veda said this like it was obvious. But Eames was always slow to catch on with her (and vice versa), so this was news to him. Fifth floor.

"But I can't-"

"Marry me, I know that." Veda softened. "You're already married. _Very_ married."

Eames nodded, thinking fleetingly of his docile, sickly wife in London. "But I can still be your anchor, love."

"It's okay. I'm the only person you call your love." Her grin widened, showing the entire top row of her pearly teeth. She grew serious again. "All I want is what you've got." Sixth floor, and the elevator dinged, letting in a couple and their three children. They'd just come in from the pool.

"Press the button with an eight on it, Hayley." The girl in pigtails smooshed her thumb into the button.

"Mommy, can we get ice cream?"

"Yes, Jay, after we have dinner."

"But first we've got to get all this chlorine off you guys."

"Papa, what makes elevators go up?" The small boy enunciated elevators, like he'd just learned the word. Veda and Eames simultaneously smiled. The father shifted his youngest son on his back while trying to explain to him what made elevators go up. The boy pretended like he understood.

The family left, leaving Veda and Eames in silence.

"What's your first name?" She asked suddenly.

"What's your last?"

"Brighton."

"Really? That's where I was born."

"Oh." Veda waited. "Aaand?"

"And what?"

"What's your first name?" Ninth floor.

"Ugh. Walter," he grumbled. Veda burst into giggles, putting her hand to her mouth. He was going to regret telling her.

"I wouldn't've pegged you as a Walter."

"You think my name's funny?"

She nodded. "It's definitely an old man name. Middle name?"

"David."

"Oh good. That's a much better name." Her face screwed into laughter again. "Walter David Eames." They arrived at the tenth floor, and she took off his jacket, handing it to him. "Thank you. Didn't realize I was cold 'til it was warm."

"You're welcome, love. Shall we see what the rest of the team is up to now that Cobb's awake?"

"Yes." They stepped out the elevator and went to the door. Eames faltered before opening it.

"You're alright, right?"

"I will be. Once I get some sleep. Really, I'm fine. Walter." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Oh, God." Eames rolled his eyes. Yes, he regretted it.

"Don't worry, my middle name's Denali. Because that's where my parents conceived me. On the cliffs of a giant mountain in a flipping tent." Eames let out a giant heap of laughter as Veda rolled her eyes.

"Now _that_'s bad." He pointed and laughed at her. "You're named after a place where your parents had sex."

"I like my name, thanks. Can we go in now?" Eames collected himself and exhaled.

"V, love, you know I love you, right?"

"I know. And I love you too, Eames." He bent down to his her lips. She tasted sweet, always sweet. Like honey.

"I will marry you some day. I promise," he breathed.

"I'll wait."

* * *

17 (Seventeen; Dix-Sept; Diecisiete)

Finally, Veda was able to relax; the party was going well. She sat down next to Ariadne, smoothing out her sundress. This table, set far back from the pool, had a shade.

"This is a nice party." Ariadne's eyes darted around. "The people, however."

"Yes."

"Do you hear what they say? I mean really. This town is so weird."

"Have I been called a tramp yet?" Veda had heard quite a bit. Mostly it was about the house, since this was the first time she'd held a real party.

"An escort. A very rich prostitute. Someone was trying to tell someone else that your twins have different fathers." Veda's eyebrows raised. "It was the bitch in the red halter top."

"Oh, she's just mad. I just told her child not to push other kids the pool. She gets points for creativity though."

"She's mad? Well if she wants her kid to kill someone, then okay." Veda smiled. "The caterer's good," said Ariadne, popping something into her mouth.

"Mhm."

"What's wrong?"

"Um- well, he's coming our way. Three o'clock." Mr. Edwards, the twins' teacher, carried flowers.

"Well then." Ariadne gave Veda a look. The hostess stood, smiling.

"Hi, William," greeted Veda.

"Hello, Veda. These're for you."

"Oh, these are pretty!" Veda took them. "Thanks. How are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good. Please, sit down. Oh, Ariadne, this is Mr. William Edwards, the kids' teacher. William, this is Ariadne, the twins' godmother."

"Oh, pleased to meet you."

"You too."

"Nice flowers," said Arthur. He came from the pool with the twins behind him.

"Arthur, this is Mr. William Edwards, their teacher. William, this is Arthur, Ariadne's husband."

"A pleasure," said Mr. Edwards, extending his hand. Arthur shook it.

"Likewise. Sorry to get your hand wet."

"It's fine. It's a pool party."

"Hi, Mr. Edwards," the twins said in unison.

"Hi." He smiled widely at them, eyes crinkling at the corners. Cayenne winced, her hair becoming twisted in her goggles when she tried to pull them off. Grayson's hand went up to her head and got it out.

"Auntie Ari, what time is it?" asked Cayenne, her fingers pulling on her platinum casino chip totem that hung around her neck. Grayson was touching his too.

"Three-oh-two," said Ariadne, glancing at her watch.

"Damien keeps saying Daddy won't come. I keep telling him he's wrong," said Grayson.

"He's very wrong," said Arthur suddenly, kneeling to Grayson. "Because he's right over there." Arthur pointed, his eyes going toward the side of the backyard away from the pool and nearer to the house.

"DADDY!" The twins gasped. A sudden hush fell over the party goers as little feet weaved through everyone. The people's eyes went to Eames who strode in large steps across the concrete, arms outstretched.

"PUPS!" When they met, Eames picked them both up in a way only he could achieve, sloppily hugging them and having a kiss for each one. The children began fawning over him as he lugged them back to where everyone else was.

"You broke his arm? Well, pup, that's just not fair, is it?"

"I guess not."

"Daddy, I wanna talk like you. All buttery."

"Me too!"

"Oh, pups, how you flatter me…"

"We're being honest," nodded Cayenne. Eames was very aware of the eyes on him from all angles, trying to peer into him and figure him out. He chuckled to himself, thinking that it was he who usually did the figuring.

"Alright, you have to come down now. I have to say hi to your mum." Veda was standing now, and she took a step forward. The twins squiggled out of their father's grip. Eames, still a few yards away from Veda, smiled a very devilish smile. Veda rolled her eyes, knowing he was going to do something-

"The beautiful mother of my children!" He announced, putting his arms around her and swooping her down to kiss her. Veda was laughing as he did it, as her legs were in the air. But he had her secure in his arms.

"Oh, Mr. Eames, put me down!" She heard her children giggle.

"As you wish, love." He put her down and winked at her. She shook her head and went back to sitting.

"You're such a showoff," Arthur disapproved.

"And you're no fun, darling." Eames turned to the Architect. "Hello, pet." The people around went back to partying, keeping an eye on him. "And these are nice flowers. Who're they for?"

"I gave them to the lady of the house," Mr. Edwards spoke up, getting to his feet.

"You did, did you?" Eames looked to Veda for an explanation.

"Eames, this is their teacher, William Edwards. William, this is-"

"Eames. Charmed." The two shook hands, gripping a little too tight.

"Mhm. It's nice to finally meet you." Mr. Edwards stepped over to the side. "I suppose I should be going. I'll be late for the evening class I teach."

"Bye, Mr. Edwards," said the twins.

"Bye. See you in school." He nodded to Veda, slowly turning pink, cleared his throat, and went on his way.

"What was his issue?" Eames asked.

"I think he liked Veda," Arthur replied, staring after Mr. Edwards.

"Really?" Eames scoffed. "Oh that is funny. He is so not your type."

One of Veda's eyebrows rose. "And what is my type?"

"Me, love. Who else?" Veda smiled.

...

Arthur bent down to kiss Ariadne's cheek, saying good morning. He looked around.

"Why aren't they in school?" wondered Arthur upon seeing the twins watching TV. It was a bright, sunny Monday morning. He went over to the coffee pot.

"Grayson was suspended, and Cayenne won't go anywhere without him," explained Veda. Arthur nodded, remembering. He put the mug of hot coffee to his lips and watched Ariadne and Veda talk in French. He only caught snippets of it, as he wasn't really paying attention to them, only the strange glittering coming from one of Veda's fingers; she kept moving it. Arthur's eyes widened, and he almost scalded his tongue upon realizing what that glittering meant. He set down his mug and cleared his throat.

"Where's Eames?"

"Porch." He gave Ariadne a knowing look before he strode out of the kitchen.

Eames was sitting on the long concrete bench, body turned and looking out on the beautiful wine country that was Sonoma. Arthur saw that he was smoking.

"You really should stop," advised Arthur, taking a spot next to him.

"I know. I don't do it quite as I much as I used to, though."

"Give me one."

"Arthur, dear, you smoke?" he asked, surprised. He pushed the pack on the banister over to Arthur.

"On occasion. Socially, I guess."

"Hm. The more you know." Arthur lit up and took a drag; he leaned on the back of the bench and concentrated on Eames' face.

"I'm sorry about your wife." A very shocked expression painted itself on Eames' face.

"And who told you about her?" He recovered.

"Ari and I were watching BBC News last night and they reported her funeral- we saw your face in the funeral processions, and they mentioned your name." Eames nodded. "Her name was Emma, right? I'm sorry she passed."

"Ah, don't be, darling. She'd been sick for years."

"And I also apologize-" Arthur caught Eames' eyes and stared directly into them- "for giving you such grief about you not marrying Veda. All these years, I didn't know."

"Hmph. Some Point Man you are-" Arthur cut his eyes at him- "But it's alright. I only told Veda. How did Ariadne take it?"

"She wasn't surprised- said she knew you both had reasons."

"Perceptive pup, isn't she?" Eames chuckled depreciatingly. "I was really forced into marrying Emma. When I was twenty, I'd been in the military for two years already when I was asked to join MI6. Couldn't say no- it was MI6. After a while, I was the best spy they had. And when I was twenty-three, I was put under some tests. Emma- she was Emma Maycombe then- was second in command of the testing facility. The head man was one of Miles' colleagues. Emma was the protégé of the inventor of dreamsharing. I forget his name. I had an aptitude for dreamscape, and you know where that went. Out of all my contemporaries- who were the best in Europe, mind you- only I could do what I did. So Em and I pretended to date, covering up what was really going on. I think for her, some bits of it were real. Things happened, my parents got involved, and I was stupid- I bloody listened to them- and I married Emma. Biggest fuck-up of my life. Shortly after, she got sick and couldn't dream anymore. Her body actually became allergic to the compounds. MI6 discharged us both honorably, saying they had others who could take over. I started dabbling in the criminal side of things. Then when I was twenty-five, when we were doing that one job, I met Veda. If I'd waited two years, I swear to God, I'd be married to V right now. I couldn't divorce Emma. That'd've been wrong- she needed me. So we were married eighteen years. Eighteen fucking years, and I was with Veda for sixteen of those." Eames put out his cigarette. "But I'm marrying her now." He lit up another.

"I saw the ring," nodded Arthur, feeling something like heartache for Eames. Veda too. For a criminal, Eames was truly an honest man.

"Yeah. We want a ceremony- for the kids' sake. You're gonna be my best man, right?"

"What? Me?"

"Oh come on, darling. You're a fantastic person, one of the smartest, most loyal men out there. Surely you knew we were friends?"

"Eames, I'm honored-"

"Oh hush, it's really because I don't know anyone else." Anyone else he trusted with his life, anyway.

"Hm, well, sure I'll be your best man."

"We don't know where it'll be yet. But it's definitely gonna be in December- new year's at midnight. I love fireworks."

"Mhm."

"Speaking of the future, we're going to pull the twins out of school."

"Good. I don't think they need it." Arthur shrugged. "Not public school, anyway."

"My sentiments exactly. As much as I love wine country- and you know how I love wine country- we're going to move. Veda's getting restless, and so am I. We don't know where yet, but the issue is-"

"-where do people like us go." Eames nodded wearily, running a hand through his hair. "Because there is no set place for us. We can't have deep roots- we've seen the world. All of it. And you can't just skip around, not with children." Arthur sighed, hesitating. "Ariadne's pregnant."

"Oh, congratulations, dear! Didn't know you were capable," he added mischievously, winking at Arthur.

"Ha. Ha."

"But you're right. Where do we go. And once we get there, how do we do what we do? Will we always want to be dreamers? Criminals, even?"

"Whatever it is, I hope that when we die, the profession dies with us." None of them had taken on protégés, even though they'd had offers. Arthur took a last drag of his cigarette and put it out.

"It won't." Eames turned around to face the house, gesturing toward the room with the TV in it. "They'll be dreamers. The somnacin did something to them. Everyone knows it. When they were in the hospital, the brain scans revealed heightened- very heightened- brain activity. You two- your baby'll be like that too. After a while, the somnacin binds with your blood. Yusuf told me- it's what he used his money from the Fischer job for. Mass trials of the effects on fetuses and children with dreaming mothers."

"Then James and Phillipa-?" Arthur thought a moment. "Hm, no. Cobb didn't let Mal dream during pregnancy… Ariadne was dreaming just this Friday. Fuck." Arthur thought of this unborn child, and the pain that was inevitable for him or her. "It'll never stop."

"No, darling it won't." A lump rose in Arthur's throat. "But, if it's any consolation, we'll love that baby like our own." It was.

"Because that's just how it is," murmured Arthur. He sighed. "We'll never belong."

"Well, that's not true, pet." Eames put out his cigarette and smiled mostly to himself. "We belong to each other." Eames looked as if he'd just stated something quite obvious. Arthur thought on it a moment and felt a wave of relief bathing his swirling emotions. They'd be alright.

"Daddy!" The door slid open, and the twins were there, holding hands. Ariadne and Veda were just steps behind them.

"Yeah, pups?" No answer from them. They just skipped over and hugged him. Tight. "Oi, what's this?" They loosened.

"'Cause we love you," replied Grayson, grinning in a way that only a child could. Cayenne nodded, big doe eyes looking up at her father.

"Oh, come here." He hugged them tightly. Ariadne wrapped her arms around Arthur, settling onto part of the bench and curled one of her legs around his. His lips brushed against her forehead. Veda slipped in between Eames and Arthur, pulling Grayson on her lap and linking arms with the two men beside her. Cayenne scrambled into her father's lap as well.

"We make such a great family, don't you think?" Veda said softly.

"The best, love." Eames leaned over and kissed her cheek. Arthur nodded, and Ariadne's face was shining with a smile.

A family of dreamers sat together in silence, unafraid of their uncertain future. Finally, it seemed like they'd filled the hole that they'd so desperately wanted to fill when they started dreaming. The irony of it all lay in the fact that the dreamers were very much awake.

**End**

**

* * *

Closing Remarks: **I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. I like those things. Some things I'd like to say:

I've got a playlist for this story, with these songs: "Creator" by Santigold ... "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien" by Edith Piaf (of course) ... "Dreaming with a Broken Heart," "Assassin," and "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer ... "After You Fall Asleep" and "Just a Feeling" by TaeYang of BigBang ... "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out" by The Smiths (500 Days of Summer elevator song) ... "Canvas" and "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap... and then two other songs.

These two other songs are basically the poster songs for the story:

"Speeding Cars" by Imogen Heap: This song, to me, is beautiful in its sad way. This exemplifies the relationship that all of them had together. And in the last scene, I thought of _"I've watched you slowly winding down for years; You can't keep on like this; Now's a bad a time as any"_ as a dialogue from Eames to Veda. And the _"None of us were angels, and you know I love you, yeah_" is how I felt everyone felt about everyone else.  
"All I Want" by Ahn Trio & Susie Suh: The song demonstrates the relationship between Eames and Veda. I saw the dance on So You Think You Can Dance (Kayla and Brandon!), and I cried. Eames disappointed Veda; he knew he couldn't give her what she wanted. But all she wanted was what he had.

So yes, this is done, my dears! Thanks for reading. Much love. 


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